An Inquiring Mind
by CatS81
Summary: Three weeks after joining the CCU, Sarah Cavendish contemplates certain team dynamics...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own 'Waking the Dead' or any of its characters, the BBC has that honour – I'm just taking them out to play for a bit.

**Pairing**: Boyd/Grace.

**Rating**: T.

**Spoilers**: Although not specific, this is set somewhere between S9 episodes, 'Harbinger' and 'Care'.

**A/N**: So, I needed to write something lighter and fluffier….This is my take on Sarah's thoughts when joining the Unit, and the questions she feels compelled to ask...

* * *

><p>Sarah Cavendish tapped her pen in a haphazard rhythm against the pile of papers in front of her, blinking distractedly into the semi-darkness of the bullpen as she forced her weary gaze towards the clock on the wall. <em>Jesus Christ<em>, she winced as she noted the lateness of the hour and tried to stifle a reactive yawn, _is this going to be par for the course then? I think I need to start seriously upping my coffee intake. _Since joining the Cold Case Unit barely three weeks previously Sarah had already worked more late nights than in all of her previous guises put together and the notion that it was likely to become second nature caused her to smile grimly into the empty room; Peter Boyd's dedication to his work was legendary, as was his impatience with anyone in his team refusing to do the same, and so despite her irritation at having to work below a fellow Superintendent, Sarah had grit her teeth and burnt the midnight oil, battling with her own shame, her own guilt with every step she took.

They had solved the case with a successful arrest the day before and despite her intentions to spend the evening in dutiful completion of her paperwork, Sarah found her mind presently wandering idly to her new colleagues, taking stock of the initial impressions she had gleaned of each of them. They were a close-knit group, that much she had garnered from first introductions, but they seemed to genuinely welcome her input, each member outwardly professional despite, she knew, their general sense of confusion at her sudden and unexpected presence amongst them. Spencer Jordan had probably been the slowest to hide his consternation, she mused as she reached for the steaming coffee pot to refill her empty mug. His defensiveness regarding his inability to deny their boss was interesting, to say the least, his own admission that his relationship with Boyd was a complicated one amusing and concerning her in equal measure. Eve Lockhart was considerably more straightforward, though her employment status made that understandable; despite being the head of the Unit, Peter Boyd was technically not her superior and as such Eve had much more scope for circumvention of his will, compared to that of the lowly DI Jordan. Sarah sighed softly as her mind moved reluctantly on to the final member of the team. Grace Foley was almost impossible to read; warm and pleasant, the Doctor appeared to be the lynch pin holding the mismatched group together, but there was something else at work within the older woman that Sarah had yet to discern, something that nagged intently at her whenever she observed the interaction of the psychologist with Boyd. _I just can't quite put my finger on it_, she thought with a frown, pushing herself to a standing position before becoming aware of her unconscious, yet decisive, action. _But maybe someone else can. _Pouring another mug of coffee, Sarah crossed the bullpen and strode towards the closed doors of the lab, the ghostly light from within confirming the presence of its occupant, and she entered the air lock, shunning the usual convention of donning a white overcoat before activating the sterile sliding doors.

Eve Lockhart looked up from her work, her gloved hands stilling as she noted the identity of her visitor, and she raised her eyebrows, the arrival of her new colleague surprising her. "Hi, Sarah; don't you know what time it is?"

Sarah raised one of the mugs in greeting as she walked towards the scientist. "I thought you could use one of these."

"I most certainly could," Eve replied, smiling gratefully as she accepted the proffered gift, bringing the cup to her lips and taking a long, satisfying draw. "Now, seriously; what on earth are you still doing here?"

"I could ask you the same."

"These are normal hours for me, Sarah, believe it or not."

"And they're getting to be for me."

Eve raised an eyebrow. "Everything alright?"

Sarah shrugged evasively, leaning her elbows onto the cold metallic table of her colleague's workspace and taking a sip from her own drink. "Yeah, I was just…trying to get on with some paperwork, that's all and I…."

"At eleven o'clock at night?"

"It's quiet."

Realisation settled across the surface of Eve's chestnut eyes. "Ah; do I take it Boyd has finally left the building, then?"

Sarah gave a small sheepish smile. "About half an hour ago….Am I that obvious?"

"Just a tad."

Her smile broadened. "It's just easier to get things done when he's not breathing down my neck all the time; you know what he's like."

"I do. But from the look of you I'm guessing that's not the only reason you're still hanging around here so late in the day."

The Superintendent groaned. "The obvious thing again?"

"In that you've obviously got something on your mind, yeah."

Sarah shook her head incredulously at the pathologist's perceptiveness. "Christ, and here I thought Grace was the psychologist."

Eve grinned. "I guess it's rubbing off on me."

"Does she have that effect on everyone?"

"You're going to have to be more specific."

Sarah ran a hand roughly through her blond tresses and sighed heavily. "Alright; being honest?"

"Of course."

"I've been trying to get my head around the…team dynamics, for want of a better phrase."

Eve chuckled throatily. "Well, the best of luck with that."

"Seriously…."

"Seriously, good luck with it. I think the term 'misfits' has been applied to us on more than one occasion."

"It's not the team as a whole."

"Oh, no?"

Sarah sighed anew and dropped her gaze, aware that her colleague's defences were instinctively rising. "You've worked here a long time, right?"

Eve inclined her head. "Five years almost."

"Long enough to get a grip on certain undercurrents?"

"Do I need to repeat myself about specificity?"

Sarah took a breath, her eyes locking steadily with those of the scientist. "Alright, so tell me: what the hell is the deal with Boyd and Grace?"

Eve's expression was neutral and unwavering. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, come on…."

"No, really; what exactly are you asking me, Sarah?"

Sarah exhaled loudly with frustration. "I think you know, for God's sake; do we really need to go round in circles with this or should I just ring Spencer?"

Eve smiled lopsidedly. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"Right, so I'll ask you again…."

"Well, that's just the point; you didn't ask me anything I can give an answer to."

"Meaning you're closing ranks and you're not going to tell me."

"Meaning there's nothing to tell."

Sarah blew out an irritated breath. "You've got to be kidding me, Eve. I picked up on the weird vibe they give off within five minutes of watching them together."

"So, there's your answer, then."

"What? The deal is that they give off a weird vibe?" She rolled her eyes. "Please."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Sarah."

"I want you to help me understand what they're about. I'm trying to fit in in this Unit and I'm not sure I can do that until I've worked out who's playing what role."

Eve watched the younger woman for a long moment, observing the uncertainty that had settled about the slender lines of her shoulders, and she felt herself begin to relent. "Alright; why don't you tell me what you think and then we'll go from there?"

Sarah took a large pull from her mug before replying, trying to organise the jumbled myriad of her thoughts. "I think…that Grace has a lot of power over him, whether he knows it or not. I think she's hugely adept at getting him to defer to her. I think they have a scary ability to communicate without actually speaking…."

"All true."

"….and I think…that if they're not currently sleeping together then they certainly used to be at some point in the past."

"Ah, well…there you've reached the extent of my knowledge, I'm afraid."

"But you don't seem awfully surprised that I've gone there."

Eve shrugged. "The Met rumour mill is a powerful one."

"It's nothing I heard on the grapevine. Just three weeks spent observing the two of them and drawing a natural conclusion."

"Hmm."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Eve held up a palm. "Nothing."

"No, come on..."

"I don't know what the answer is, alright?"

"But you suspect the same thing as me, don't you? Because if you don't you're being awfully evasive for no reason."

The scientist sighed. "Look…in all the years I've known them, they've always behaved professionally, they've always conducted themselves purely as colleagues and certainly as nothing more than friends. Even if you _are_ right, the bottom line is that whatever they're doing behind closed doors, it's not having any impact on how they function at work. So, ultimately, it's none of anyone's damn business but theirs; don't you think?"

Sarah levelled a steely gaze at her colleague. "You're telling me to back off."

"I'm…advising you to respect the status quo."

"Or else?"

Eve frowned. "It's not a threat, Sarah. I'm just trying to help you understand how things are…and how they should be allowed to continue."

"Because that's the way things have always been? Because you and Spence have been content to remain blissfully ignorant?"

The pathologist raised her chin slightly in defiance at the younger woman's critical tone. "It works for us; and if you're serious about wanting to fit in then it's something you're going to need to accept."

"Right; and sod the fact that one day it might seriously jeopardise a case or the integrity of this Unit?"

"I can't tell you any more than I already have. Frankly, if you want a more definitive answer, you're going to have to ask them; but I really wouldn't want to be within earshot for that particular conversation."

Sarah smiled darkly. "You think he'd shout me down?"

"I think he'd tell you to mind your own business, though maybe not in quite so many words."

"Justifiably?"

Eve shrugged lightly though her expressive eyes had hardened to flint. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." The blonde woman barked a mirthless laugh, the scientist's loyalties abundantly clear. "I'll see you tomorrow, Eve."

With that, Sarah turned on her heel and stalked from the lab, leaving Eve to release a slow breath into the silence, deliberately counting to ten in an attempt to restore her equilibrium before picking up the telephone next to her and dialling the familiar number.

"Grace? Look, I'm sorry to call so late but I've just had a_ very_ interesting conversation with Sarah…."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: Thanks so much for all of your lovely comments so far – I have to confess, I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this so I'm going to have to ask that you bear with me! Thanks, guys, hope you enjoy this next instalment x

* * *

><p>Grace Foley slowly removed her reading glasses and placed them serenely atop the book in her lap, shifting beneath the pale lilac of her bedcovers and sitting up straighter against her pillows as she held the telephone receiver closer to her ear.<p>

"Go on, Eve; I'm listening."

At the other end of the line, Eve Lockhart sighed heavily, reluctance suddenly pulsing through her stomach and edging into her tone. "You know what? Forget it; it's late. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Grace frowned into the soft light of her room, a tiny flicker of anxiety tightening in her chest. "No, come on; what is it?"

"It's nothing important."

"Hmm." Grace narrowed her eyes. "So, why do I get the feeling it's the complete opposite of that, then?"

Eve smiled grimly into the handset. "Because you're bloody good at your job?"

"Seriously, Eve; whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I just don't want to disturb you if you're trying to sleep…"

"I was only reading. Now, spit it out, will you? Clearly you and Sarah have had some kind of altercation..."

Eve sighed again. "I'm not sure I'd call it that. More a…difference of perspective."

"In regards to what?"

"I don't know if I can work with her, Grace. I hate to sound like an HR manual but she's hardly displaying what I'd call the seamless ability to fit in to a team."

"Well, I can't comment on that. At least, not yet."

"I know we should give her a chance but I…"

"Without a doubt we should. I don't know the details of her expulsion from Counter-Terrorism but it must have been pretty serious…."

"In that she was unceremoniously dumped on us?"

"In that she's definitely nursing some kind of psychological injury…"

"Aren't we all, Grace?"

"…But that's not what you wanted to talk about, is it?"

Eve closed her eyes briefly, dread settling heavily in her gut. "No."

"So, come on, then; what exactly is it that you're so reluctant to tell me?"

The pathologist inhaled slowly. "Just…that she felt the need to subject me to the Spanish Inquisition, that's all. In my own lab, of all places…and I didn't appreciate it, to say the least."

Grace smiled at the younger woman's turn of phrase, the barely concealed irritation lacing her words. "Any particular subject?"

"Yes, as it happens."

"Ah; so finally we're getting to the reason for your call."

"Well, all reticence aside, I didn't think I should keep it to myself…given that you were the source of her intrigue and line of questioning."

The psychologist raised a surprised eyebrow. "Really?"

"Not just you." The scientist exhaled loudly once more, one hand straying to the back of her neck in an attempt to ease the coiled tension in her muscles. "She's apparently been trying to analyse the team dynamics."

Grace laughed. "God; I don't even think I'm qualified enough for that."

"That's more or less what I told her; that she was on a hiding to nothing."

"But?"

"But she felt the need to push me. Particularly… with regards to you and Boyd."

Grace took a breath, her pulse quickening unbidden, and she fought to maintain an even tone. "Individually?"

"Not even remotely."

"What was she getting at?"

Eve expelled her breath forcefully. "Oh, you name it."

"So what did you tell her?"

"The truth; that I know absolutely nothing beyond the fact that you've known each other a long time and that you're professional contemporaries."

"And what did she say to that?"

"She accused me of closing ranks in your defence," Eve snorted with contempt. "It'd be laughable if I wasn't so bloody irritated."

"Is she accusing me of something specific, then?"

"She says she's just trying to get a handle on the quote-unquote weird vibe between you and Boyd; and whether it could potentially interfere with your work and what that could mean for the Unit."

Grace was quiet for several moments before replying. "I see."

"This isn't coming from me."

"No, I know; and I wouldn't dream of shooting the messenger."

Eve sighed uncomfortably, her chest constricting. "Look, Grace…I've never asked and I don't want to know unless you want to tell me. It's absolutely none of my, or anybody else's, business…"

The psychologist sighed. "Eve…"

"…but Sarah thinks she's got the measure of the two of you…Do you need me to spell it out in any plainer language than that?"

"No."

"Oh, thank God."

Grace laughed lightly, the tension between the two women dissipating suddenly at the scientist's heartfelt exclamation, the younger woman beginning to chuckle throatily at Grace's obvious amusement. "Thanks, Eve."

"I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I got the feeling she's not going to leave it alone and I didn't want you being taken completely by surprise."

"You really think she'd be that brazen?"

"She's got some serious balls, Grace…though I guess you'd have to as a woman heading up a Counter-Terrorism Unit; those kinds of teams are serious testosterone pits, in my experience."

"Hmm."

"As I said, I pretty much told her to keep her nose out…but I'm not sure how much she was listening."

"Too much time spent immersed in said testosterone."

Eve choked back an amused laugh. "Not that you're casting aspersions on the male of the species in any way, shape or form."

"Of course not; though in my experience it's the female of the species that's generally harder to fathom."

"Oh, true enough in spades. Give me men to deal with any day of the week."

Grace smiled, warmth spreading through her chest at the resumption of their easy interaction. "Is that about it, then? Or are you pulling another all-nighter over there?"

"You know me, Grace."

"Yes, I do; and you're as bad as the previous occupants of that lab, if not worse, when it comes to working yourself too hard."

Eve grinned, aware her mirth was obvious in her voice. "I consider my wrist well and truly slapped, Doctor Foley."

"Good; now, are you going home to bed?"

"Soon." The scientist felt her grin broaden mischievously, unable to prevent the words as they formed on her lips. "Boyd left about half an hour ago, by the way."

"That wasn't what I asked, Eve…"

"Good night, Grace."

Grace shook her head with resignation as the younger woman rang off rapidly, and she fell back against the soft down of her pillows, the wry smile that had danced briefly across her features fading rapidly as the anxious knot she had supressed reformed tightly in her stomach. _God…who does Sarah Cavendish think she is?_ she thought acidly. _ She has absolutely no idea the damage she could do if she pursues this. No idea at all. _With a sigh, Grace reached once more for her discarded book, closing her eyes within seconds as the words swam unread before her eyes. _He's going to go mad_, she thought with an increasingly deepening frown. _And for once I don't actually think I can blame him…_

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: Firstly, I'm so sorry this has taken me a while to do! And also for it being quite long – honestly when I write for Boyd & Grace, I tend to get a bit carried away! ;) There are definite spoilers in this chapter for S8's 'Endgame' and for S9's 'Harbinger'. Apart from that…hope you enjoy :)

* * *

><p>Grace jerked suddenly awake at the sound of heavy footfall on her staircase, her heart pummelling her ribcage in panic before her rationality could reassert itself at the normality of the sound and she took several deep breaths, willing her pulse to slow as calm began to wash over her anew. She blinked rapidly into the diffuse light of the room, one hand catching the book that was on the verge of slipping from her lap, the other reaching for her bedside clock, squinting as she attempted to discern the time without the aid of her reading glasses. <em>God, I'm getting old<em>, she thought wearily, wincing as she acknowledged the dull ache in her neck, the result of her unintentional sleeping position. _Half eleven and I'm fighting a losing battle…._

The door to her bedroom opened slowly then and Peter Boyd edged through, his rugged features creased in concentration as he manoeuvred further into the room, his fingers curled respectively about a tumbler of whiskey and a steaming porcelain mug, his foot moving deftly to sweep the door closed behind him in his wake. Grace smiled, a warm glow filtering through her at his display of settled domesticity, a term she had until relatively recently considered mutually exclusive with the man himself.

"I didn't hear you come in," she opened as he approached her, stretching to meet him as he bent to brush a brief kiss across her mouth.

"Yeah, well…I didn't know if you'd still be up so I tried to be quiet."

"I was reading."

He levelled a sceptical look at her as he placed the mug in her hand before walking around the bed and sinking next to her with a tired groan. "Of course you were."

"Just closed my eyes for five minutes, that's all."

"And when was that?"

She grimaced sheepishly, giving him a sideways glance. "About twenty minutes ago."

He tutted in mock disapproval and shook his head. "You can't take the pace anymore; that's all there is to it."

"It's true." Grace took a grateful sip from her cup, the warming liquid soothing against the bones of her chest, and she patted his thigh affectionately. "Thanks."

He gave a grunt of acknowledgment. "It's that hippy crap I found in your cupboard."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Lemon and ginger?"

"Whatever."

"It's good for you, Boyd; better than whiskey, at any rate."

He raised his glass towards her in a sardonic toast before taking a large swallow. "Purely medicinal."

"Hm."

"Oh, give me a break, Grace. It's nearly midnight and I've only just finished work."

"Right; and whose fault is that again?"

He groaned loudly and drained his glass. "I mean it; I'm knackered…."

"So, get into bed, then…."

"….and I don't need you on my case every bloody second of the day."

She watched him as he levered himself irritably from the bed and began to undress, bringing her mug to her lips several times in succession and frowning at the gruff edge to his tone, a sense of dread knotting once more in her stomach as her mind moved inevitably to her previous conversation with Eve. Momentarily she placed the empty cup onto her bedside table as he slid beneath the sheets beside her, and she was unable to prevent a smile as he pulled her firmly towards him, the breadth of his bare chest warm against her back.

"You alright?" she asked softly after several moments spent basking in the sensation of lying in his arms, the rhythmical cadence of his breathing against her neck.

"Yeah."

"Just a run-of-the-mill bad mood, then?"

"Grace, for God's sake."

She relented instantly and kissed him lightly on the forearm. "Sorry."

He gave a reluctant, shuddering sigh. "It's just…this case."

A sense of realisation settled across her chest. "Ah; anything specific?"

He exhaled heavily and rolled onto his back, his arm encouraging the movement of her body so that she lay nestled against his chest. "I was going over the paperwork…and just trying to get my head around how someone could do that."

"To their kids?"

"Well, not just that." He sighed anew, a forceful expulsion of air from his lungs. "How could anyone fake having cancer? That's just….I don't think I can even vocalise how fucking angry it's made me."

Grace took a breath. "She's not well, Boyd; Munchausen's-by-Proxy…it's a complicated and largely unquantifiable illness…."

"I don't give a shit."

"Well, you should. Despite its controversy, it's a recognised mental condition and it…."

"How can you, of all people, be so bloody understanding?"

She sighed softly. "Because I'm a psychologist…and I'd be pretty remiss in that role not to at least try, don't you think?"

"Jesus Christ, when I think of you in that hospital bed…." He faltered into silence and cleared his throat gruffly, unable to completely shift the ball of pressure pressing firmly against his larynx.

Grace inhaled shakily before moving to stroke soothing, reassuring circles across his chest. "I'm fine, Peter."

"Yeah, you're fine _now_. But it wasn't so long ago that you…."

"She was poisoning her kids and she murdered her husband…."

He blew out an incredulous breath. "So you're saying that pretending she had cancer was the least of all her evils?"

Grace shrugged. "Something like that."

He gave her a sideways glance, trying to gauge her sincerity, the measured control of her expression. "Oh, don't," he groaned finally, after several seconds had passed.

"Don't what?"

"Don't pretend that it didn't affect you, all this."

"Of course it did," she admitted softly. "But I've had no evidence of disease for over a year, Boyd; it's not on my mind all the time anymore and because of my profession I've got certain…insights into conditions like those of Julie Rees."

"I'm not saying you don't…but Christ Almighty, Grace…how can you not be angry after all you went through?"

"Because it's a waste of energy."

"Well, I'm fucking furious and I…."

"And it's sweet of you, in a warped sort of a way. It's just unnecessary."

"Please," he scoffed gruffly, his face briefly contorting with consternation, though he picked up her hand and pressed it to his mouth, the feel of her skin enough to quell his righteous indignation. "Just don't let it be known to the general public, alright?"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for his reaction to her proceeding words. "Anyway, I hate to add fuel to the fire…."

He groaned in anticipation as he caught the reticence to her tone. "But?"

"But before you got home I had a very…illuminating phone conversation with Eve."

"Oh, God; do I want to hear this or don't I get a choice in the matter?"

She levelled him a warning glare. "How long have we been in this relationship?"

He grinned. "Is this a test or…?"

"Seriously; Eve wanted to give me advanced warning that Sarah has been…asking certain questions…about particular undercurrents that apparently exist within the team."

"Such as?"

"Well, it took Eve a while to get to it…but basically Sarah wants to know…if you and I…."

"If you and I, what?"

Grace sighed, frustrated by his apparent obtuseness. "Can you really not see where I'm going with this?"

He grinned wolfishly and shifted to lean against his elbow to face her. "She wants to know if we're shagging."

Grace looked at him reproachfully and inclined her head. "Interesting choice of words, Peter…."

"Is it my fault you're a 'GILF'?"

"A _what_?"

"You know: Grandmother I'd Like to Fu…"

"Boyd!" she admonished sharply, her eyebrows rising rapidly towards her hairline at the unexpectedness of his words.

"Alright, let's try a different one: Grandmother I'm Already Fuc…."

"Honestly. I've known teenaged boys who are more mature than you."

His dark eyes twinkled mischievously, his smile broadening at the delicate flush to her skin. "Well, you are."

"Can we get back on topic, please?"

"Come on, then," he said. "Sarah wants to know if we're shagging and…?"

The psychologist rolled her eyes at his repetition. "Well, not in so many words. I'm sure she phrased it slightly more delicately than that."

He was suddenly serious, his expression sobering. "However she phrased it….I hope Eve told her to mind her own damn business."

"Of course she did."

"So…?"

"So, apparently Sarah didn't want to let it go."

He looked at her, a frown forming across the expanse of his features. "Jesus Christ…You're not saying she's planning on _asking_…?"

"Yes. Hence why Eve wanted to let me know."

Boyd exhaled loudly. "And what exactly does Sarah think gives her the right to pry?"

"Oh, allegedly she's trying to work out where she fits within the team, what everyone's relative roles are, et cetera, et cetera…."

"And what the hell's that got to do with our personal lives?"

Grace held up a weary palm. "You're preaching to the converted, Peter."

"I know that," he breathed in annoyance. "Shit."

The psychologist sighed heavily. "So, what are you going to tell her?"

"Oh, come on, Grace. No way will she ask me outright; she's much more likely to come to you, isn't she?"

"Is she?"

"In that you're less likely to knock her into next week; yeah."

"Alright, then, assuming that she does…what do you want _me_ to tell her?"

Boyd felt his patience suddenly evaporate, frustration arcing through his body. "Tell her to mind her own fucking business! For fuck's sake, Grace, it's a place of work, not a bloody centre for gossip!"

"I'm well aware of that. And I imagine she is as well."

"Our relationship has got nothing to do with what happens in the office or within the team so tell her to take her fucking intrusive questions and shove them up her arse!"

Grace gave him a long-suffering, lopsided smile. "Well, I don't think I'll put it _quite_ like that."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just make sure she gets the message."

"And if she doesn't?"

He smiled dangerously. "Then send her in to see me."

The profiler sighed deeply, the threatening edge to his voice causing her chest to tighten. "Boyd…."

"I'm not having it, Grace. She can think what she wants about me professionally but my private life is exactly that and I…."

"You can understand where she's coming from though, can't you?"

"Not even slightly." He exhaled irritably. "What happens outside of the job has no impact on how we function within the team; why can't she see that?"

"Because she's trying to feel her way through the mire, Peter."

He looked at her with astonished exasperation. "Is this you with your psychologist's hat on?"

"I always have that hat on."

"Well, it's bollocks. Sarah sticking her oar in has got nothing to do with her trying to fit into the team, or working out the pecking order….It's good old fashioned nosiness at its worst."

Grace raised a wry eyebrow. "Is this _you_ with your psychologist's hat on?"

"Oh, Grace," he groaned with a characteristically theatrical flair, falling heavily back against his pillow.

"Look…even if it's true…."

"It is."

"Even if it is," she continued with stoic determination, "we're still going to have to deal with it. With whatever Sarah chooses to do."

"I've told you exactly how we're going to deal with it: by telling her to piss off."

The profiler sighed. "I'm not going to tell her to piss off."

"I will, then. I've got no absolutely no qualms about it and no reason to feel guilty for defending my right to privacy."

Grace narrowed her sapphire eyes. "Hm."

"What?" he grumbled irritably. "It was a pre-emptive strike, Grace, before you go off on one about consequences, psychological or otherwise."

She sighed anew with weary resignation at the finality to his tone. "And that's the end of the discussion, is it?"

"Yeah." He yawned loudly, deliberately. "Can we go to sleep now? Or, at the very least, have sex?"

She rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to groan her reluctance into the stillness, her exhausted body craving sleep above his ordinarily irresistible proposition. "You_ are_ joking?"

He reached across her to extinguish her bedside lamp, his weight briefly atop her as he kissed her gently, fluidly in the sudden darkness, his lips caressing hers softly. "Yes, Grace."

"Oh, thank God."

He gave a low chuckle and pulled her towards him, her head moving to rest naturally against his shoulder, her palm unconsciously tracing circles across his torso. "You could really dent my sense of male pride here, you know."

Grace smiled against his skin, well aware that he was teasing her. "Sorry."

"You sound it."

"I know I'm a bore…but I'm exhausted, Peter."

"You're anything but a bore and you know it." He dropped his mouth briefly to her hair. "I'm knackered too. Sleep it is."

"And come what may tomorrow?"

"Exactly."

She stretched up to claim his lips once more as they began to settle beneath the bedcovers in preparation for sleep, feeling him tense fractionally as she failed to prevent a smile from forming against his mouth.

"What?" he asked, slight consternation lacing his tone as she pulled away from him to relax against her own pillow.

"Nothing." Grace felt her smile broaden. "I'm just not used to you being clean-shaven now, that's all. It feels…strange."

"Good strange?"

"Absolutely."

"I just…needed a change. Even something as small as that."

She reached for his hand beneath the sheets, squeezing her fingers gently. "I know you did."

He returned the gesture even as an unyielding groan escaped his lips. "I don't want to get into a whole psychoanalysis thing about it, Grace. If you're too tired for sex…."

"Then clearly I'm too tired to use my brain, is that it?"

He grunted once more and turned over away from her, tucking one hand beneath his pillow. "In one. Good night."

Grace grinned in amusement, wrapping her arms about his waist as she pulled her chest flush against his back. "Good night, Boyd."

Within minutes his breathing had slowed, his torso rising and falling in rhythmical restfulness and Grace released her final futile grasp on consciousness, forcing away the residual flicker of anxiety which nagged incessantly at her chest and focussing completely on the enveloping warmth emanating from his slumbering body.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: Ok, so for some reason my muse decided to introduce a case in this chapter…though mainly for the purposes of Boyd/Grace banter ;) However, I'm really not sure if I want to expand on it so just to warn you that it may be a slight dead-end! Thanks so much for reading and hope you enjoy….

* * *

><p>"Late night?"<p>

Sarah gave a tight-lipped smile as Spencer Jordan appeared at her side, her expression instantly softening as she noted the steaming mugs in his hands and she inclined her head gratefully as she accepted his proffered gift before taking a slow, indulgent sip of coffee. "I was trying to get a head-start on the paperwork from the last case…."

Spencer grinned, his dark eyes shining as he took a seat beside her. "Ah, the futile enthusiasm of the new recruit…."

Sarah narrowed her eyes, though she was unable to prevent a small smile. "May I remind you, DI Jordan, that I'm two full ranks above…."

"It won't last. I guarantee it."

"I'm sure," she acquiesced sardonically at the gentle humour lacing his tone. "How do you lot manage to generate such a long damned paper trail in the first place?"

He shrugged, taking a long draw from his own mug. "Years of practice."

"I swear you do it on purpose. Some kind of masochistic thing or…."

"Masochistic?" he echoed in amusement as he turned to look at her. "Have you been talking to Grace?"

"Please. It's pop-psychology…not to mention completely obvious. You're all a bunch of workaholic sadists."

"And you're telling me it wasn't like that, and worse, in Counter-Terrorism?" The DI blew out a sceptical breath. "Pull the other one."

"We just knew when to call it a day, that's all. I don't ever remember working past eleven p.m., not in years."

"What can I say, ma'am? We're dedicated to the cause."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it. When we've got the bit between our collective teeth we don't stop until we've got a result."

The DSI held up a palm. "And it's commendable. It's just the aftermath that's a bit hard to stomach."

"It's par for the course."

"So you have a lot of down-time, then?"

Spencer inclined his head. "We have time between cases to get our house in order before we turn everything over to the CPS. It makes sure it's all water-tight, especially since we're often trying to make a case on evidence that might be decades old."

"And once it's all wrapped up?"

He smiled. "Then we usually spend a few hours arguing about what our next case should be, unless something pressing rears its ugly head."

"Let me guess: Boyd normally gets his own way?"

The DI's smile broadened. "Not always."

Realisation settled about Sarah's features. "Except when Grace twists his arm?"

"Did I say that?"

"No. I'm just starting to see the way things are around here, that's all."

"Is that right?"

Sarah took a breath to reply but was interrupted by Peter Boyd's barking call to order, the imposing figure striding from his office and into the bullpen, pausing only to sharply intone the profiler's name, the older woman appearing behind him as he made his way to the front of the room.

"Someone buzz Eve, will you?" Boyd ordered brusquely as he positioned himself in his customary dominant position in front of the transparent evidence board, his fingers curling expectantly about a marker pen.

Grace picked up a telephone handset to oblige him and within a few minutes the scientist had arrived, her jade fingernails sluicing through the dark tresses of her hair as she secured it at the nape of her neck before taking her seat beside the profiler. The two women exchanged a brief glance, Eve raising her eyebrows questioningly towards Sarah and Grace responding with a minute shake of her head, their unspoken words echoing deafeningly in the air between them.

"Right, first of all," Boyd was saying loudly as he began to address the team, "I'm looking to turn the Julie Rees case over to the CPS this afternoon so I need to have everyone's reports by midday at the latest…."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "It's likely she'll plead guilty on the grounds of diminished responsibility, isn't it?"

"On the grounds that she's mad?"

The psychologist stifled a sigh. "She's not mad, Boyd. She's ill."

The DSI waved his pen dismissively. "Semantics, Grace."

"She _will_ plead though, won't she?"

"I don't see how she can't." Boyd blew out his breath irritably. "I don't want to get bogged down in this; we present it to the CPS and it becomes their problem, alright?"

Grace held up a placating palm. "Alright."

"Good," he said gruffly, reaching for his reading glasses before addressing the room once more. "Now, about our next case…."

"Yeah, I've got a potential lead," Spence spoke up quickly even as Eve took a breath. "Those armed robberies from the eighties…."

Boyd groaned. "Not this again, Spence."

"I think it warrants attention, Boyd," the younger man protested, bristling. "The evidence is…."

"Practically non-existent. It's not going to happen."

"You're cutting off our noses to spite your face. It wouldn't be the first time we took on a case without much to go on."

"It'd be a last resort, Spence. I'll only consider it if no-one else has anything to offer." He grinned as he surveyed the room. "And judging by the look on Eve's face, you're far from the only one to have a lead."

Eve raised her hands apologetically. "To be honest, mine's even more speculative than Spence's."

Boyd sighed noisily, his annoyance clear. "Anyone else, then?"

Grace cleared her throat, earning her a raised eyebrow from the DSI. "Well….I did come across something in the archives…something that's reared its head in the press again over the past week."

"Go on."

"Do you remember Janet Shelby? Convicted in the mid-nineties for knifing her husband and drowning her children?"

Sarah spoke up, cutting off her fellow DSI before he could formulate a response. "Yeah…and now that you mention it, her lawyer was on the news last week, wasn't he? Something about her professing her innocence?"

Grace nodded. "She's now claiming it was her lover, James Steadmore, who committed the offences; an act of rage and jealousy and he…."

"Is there any evidence to support that?" Spence asked.

"She's saying she can prove it…and she's demanding a re-investigation and a re-trial."

"Why's it taken her so long to speak up?" Boyd mused, frowning as he turned towards the board and began to jot down the initial details.

The profiler shrugged. "Something to do with wanting to protect her lover, I imagine."

Boyd scoffed with derision. "Oldest line in the book."

"Doesn't mean it isn't true."

"So, what's the story, then?"

"Well….Janet Shelby, who was thirty at the time of the murders, respectable wife, mother of two, chairwoman of the PTA…."

"Let me guess," Boyd interrupted sharply. "She suddenly decides the grass is greener, ups and leaves for this James Steadmore, then in a fit of guilt or whatever, returns to the marital home to do away with the family she feels is holding her back from her new life?"

Grace suppressed a smile. "That was the line the police took in the original investigation and the thought process of the jury that convicted her, yes."

"It stands to reason," Sarah added. "It sounds like the most likely thing to me."

"Hm. Psychologically it doesn't hold much water though."

"Why not?" Boyd asked. "Women lose the plot sometimes, don't they? I mean, this wouldn't be a completely isolated case."

"No. But as we've seen before, it's extremely unusual for a woman to kill her children."

"Extreme provocation?"

"Even then. And extreme provocation was never the road the prosecution went down."

"Alright," he sighed. "What about the husband, then? That wouldn't be at all far-fetched psychologically, would it?"

"Absolutely not," she agreed. "I don't know any wife who hasn't wanted to murder her husband at some point during their marriage."

There was a ripple of laughter at the profiler's deadpan comment and Boyd allowed the team a few moments to settle before speaking again, his eyes locking to the psychologist's in continued silent amusement though his tone was serious. "What about the lover, Grace?"

Grace drew a breath. "As a credible suspect, you mean?"

"Yeah. Crime of passion, jealous rage…."

"That would explain the husband's murder. Not the kids."

"How did she meet him?" Spence asked before Boyd could respond with a further question.

The profiler smiled broadly and glanced at the younger man before returning her attention to Boyd. "Do I take this means we're interested in the case?"

The DSI rolled his eyes. "For a lack of anything better to do. Now, are you going to answer the question or shall I just fill in the blanks myself?"

Grace raised her eyebrows and sat back silently in her chair, aware of the widening smiles of the junior members of the team in reaction to Boyd's resonating groan of frustration.

"For God's sake, Grace…."

"He was the father of one of her son's friends," she replied, relenting hastily beneath the weight of his irritation. "He…."

"You know what? I think I could have a good go with those blanks; she meets him at the school gates one day, there's an instant attraction; they eventually end up in the sack with him promising to leave his wife, who of course has never understood him and…."

"Have you been reading Mills and Boon, Boyd?"

Eve laughed loudly. "With a title along the lines of 'The Downtrodden Husband and the Lusty Mother'?"

Sarah sighed testily, despite the ensuing mirth from her colleagues. "Are we really joking about this? We're talking about multiple murders, for God's sake, and children at that."

"Sarah, believe me, this is nothing," Spence replied with a throaty chuckle. "It's…."

"Getting back to the point," Boyd interjected, his tone sobering though his features remained softened by a lopsided grin. "Am I about on the money, Grace?"

Grace exhaled in exasperation. "Well, in a nutshell, Boyd, yes…."

"See, I told you; who needs facts?"

"But don't forget that sexual attraction and arousal tend to be…complex issues for a woman. It's not just to do with meeting someone and feeling a spark."

He grinned wolfishly, his dark eyes shining as he looked at her. "Is that right?"

She held his gaze and for a second she felt the rest of the room melt dramatically away, aware that butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach and that in all likelihood her skin was beginning to flush. _Damn you…._ Aloud she said simply, "Yes. Her own mental state probably had more to do with it than anything else."

"Alright." The DSI cleared his throat gruffly in an attempt to regain control over his rapidly increasing pulse rate. "Draw me up a profile, will you? His and hers. Let's consider how accurate this sudden change of heart might be."

"I'll get right on it."

"Spence, Sarah, you two dig out all of the evidence from the original investigation and go through it with a fine-toothed comb, and ditto, Eve, with the forensics. I'll get in touch with Shelby's solicitor and the DPP, and we'll take it from there. All clear?"

There were murmurs of assent before the team began to disband, Boyd and Grace heading for their respective offices, and Eve rising to her feet before Sarah's irritated intonation stopped her where she stood.

"Tell me _that_ wasn't excruciatingly uncomfortable," the blonde woman said, her features creasing darkly into a frown.

"What?" the scientist asked evenly, aware that her arms had begun to fold in an instinctive gesture of defence.

"All that…female arousal stuff. Laying it on a bit thick, wasn't she?"

Spencer scowled fiercely. "She's a psychologist and a bloody good one. It's in her nature to look at things from a more in-depth perspective than us poor coppers."

"Come on," Sarah scoffed. "You could practically see the sparks fly."

Eve shook her head firmly and began to walk towards the lab. "I'm not getting into this again, Sarah."

"Into what?" Spence asked quizzically, his eyes following the retreating back of the pathologist before turning to face his remaining colleague.

Sarah sighed loudly. "Just a…discussion Eve and I were having last night. About Boyd and Grace."

The DI rose rapidly from his chair. "I don't want to know."

"I'm only after an honest answer."

Spence gave a humourless grin. "Take my advice, Sarah: leave it alone."

"If they're involved in some kind of inappropriate…."

"Did you not hear me?"

"For Christ's sake, they're not even subtle about it! I think they forgot the rest of us were here at some point during all that and they…."

"It's the way they are. It doesn't mean anything and even if it does…believe me, your life wouldn't be worth living if you called them on it."

Sarah blew out an exasperated breath. "Jesus, you and Eve are both so…."

"Yeah. It's called loyalty and you'd be wise to learn about the concept if you're serious about fitting in here."

"Is that so?"

"Too damn right." The DI held her defiant gaze, his eyes smouldering intensely with barely disguised disgust before he broke away. "I'm going for a fag."

"Make it a quick one," she snapped shortly. "We've got a lot to be getting on with."

Spence rolled his eyes and strode away, leaving Sarah to fall back against her chair, releasing a tightly held breath into the recently vacated room and running a hand across her eyes. _Shit_, she thought forcefully, trying to will away a powerful urge to retrieve her hip flask from her handbag. _I'm only succeeding in alienating myself here…but I'll be damned if I'll let any future operations of this team be put at risk because of the personal priorities of two of its members…._Squaring her shoulders, the DSI rose decisively to her feet and strode purposefully in the direction of Grace's office.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: Well, I'm still not sure where I'm headed with this…but it's fun to write so I'm just going to let the muse do its thing…when it cooperates, of course! Oh, and in this chapter I have unashamedly stolen a line from 'Star Trek: Voyager'…about Starfleet regulating people's personal lives…The parallels kinda worked, I thought! :) Anyways, thanks so much to you all for reading and reviewing; I really appreciate it x

* * *

><p>Grace looked up from her files and removed her reading glasses as Sarah tapped sharply on her office door and entered unbidden, the younger woman's features drawn in a terse frown as she stepped over the threshold. <em>Oh God<em>, Grace thought morosely. _That didn't take her long…._

"Sarah?" the profiler queried aloud, her eyes following the tense movements of the DSI as she folded her arms across her chest, her posture instantly defensive. "You alright?"

"I need a word, Grace," the blonde woman replied brusquely. "Can I sit down?"

"Of course." Grace gestured in the direction of her spare chair. "Is it something about this new case?"

Sarah shook her head silently as she took a seat opposite the psychologist, appraising the older woman coldly for a long moment and crossing one slender leg over the other.

Grace took a steadying breath in anticipation. "What, then?"

The DSI sighed, self-directed irritation beginning to burn through her stomach as she felt her resolve suddenly weaken. "This team…the four of you…you're…tight-knit, aren't you?"

The profiler gave a small smile. "I'd like to think so."

"And you'd defend each other, cover for each other if the need arose?"

"Well, it would depend on the circumstances….but essentially, yes."

"Consequences be damned?"

Grace sighed heavily, anxiety twisting tightly in her stomach. "What's this about, Sarah?"

The younger woman held her gaze unwaveringly and continued, "So, even if certain members of the team were behaving in a manner that could jeopardise its integrity, the others would turn a blind eye?"

"Jeopardise it, how?"

"By prioritising their personal lives over the professional interests of the team."

The profiler raised her eyebrows. "We all have personal lives…but as far as I know, none of us let them interfere with how we conduct ourselves professionally."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, I'm not sure I agree."

Grace took a breath. "What's your point?"

Sarah exhaled forcefully and ran a hand roughly through her hair. "My point is…that if said personal lives _were_ causing a problem or, at the very least, a potential problem for the rest of the team…it could be catastrophic operationally."

"Give me a 'for instance'."

"Alright…," the DSI intoned slowly, her intelligent mind racing. "Say a situation arises where one of us has expertise that could be monumental in solving a case but that there's a certain amount of danger involved….Wouldn't anyone personally connected to that individual be so conflicted it could cloud their judgement?"

Grace shook her head. "Not necessarily."

"Come _on_…."

"Besides which, that kind of situation would be hard for anyone in a team like ours. But that's not what you're getting at, is it?"

Sarah's gaze was unyielding. "You know it's not."

The profiler's voice was firm, her sapphire eyes steadfastly locked to those of the younger woman. "You're heading for dangerous water, Sarah."

"I'm just trying to make a point."

"Which is what?"

"That there should be no room for interpersonal relationships between members of the same unit. It's a recipe for disaster."

"In your opinion."

"In the opinion of the Metropolitan Police, in fact. The guidelines governing this kind of thing are…."

"Exactly that: guidelines," Grace interjected. "As far as I'm aware the Met has always been reluctant to regulate people's personal lives and…."

"It's frowned upon though, without a doubt. Particularly for members of the same team…and particularly, I would imagine, for a team as small and vulnerable as this one."

The profiler frowned deeply as she caught the edge to the younger woman's voice. "Meaning what?"

Sarah shrugged, an affectation of nonchalance. "Just that this team has a lot to lose and that its position doesn't need to be jeopardised further by the behaviour of two of its constituents."

Grace smiled dangerously, her words heavily laden with sarcasm. "How considerate of you to be so concerned."

"Whether I like it or not, I'm a member of this team now…and I'll be damned if I'll let it be compromised either operationally or in terms of its long-term future because two of my colleagues have a personal agenda."

"Based only on your own assumptions."

Sarah leant forward in her chair, her blue eyes coldly intense. "Are you denying it, then?"

"What?"

"That you and Boyd are sleeping together?"

The ensuing silence was deafening and Grace took a deep, cleansing breath, determined to project an aura of calm despite the furious pounding of her heart beneath her skin. "Let's turn this around, Sarah," she said, after several tense moments had passed. "Would you consider it appropriate if I were to ask you who _you're_ sleeping with?"

Sarah blew out a dismissive breath. "Of course not. But that's not the point."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not sleeping with my boss…."

"And neither am I."

"….Or with any of my other colleagues, for that matter." The DSI rolled her eyes at the profiler's interruption. "I'm guessing only in the sense that you don't consider Boyd to be your boss."

"He's not my boss. I'm a consultant and technically I'm employed by the Home Office."

"Yeah; 'technically' is the right term."

Grace's eyes hardened to cobalt. "It's an accurate term, Sarah; whether you like it or not and…."

"We're digressing," the younger woman interrupted brusquely, steely determination lacing her tone. "Whether or not Boyd's your boss is irrelevant."

"I thought that was your whole argument?"

"The point is, Grace, that if the two of you _are_ in a relationship..." The DSI broke off and sighed, running a hand roughly through her blonde tresses. "I stand by what I said before; that it could be disastrous for this team, either in terms of inappropriate prioritisation or in terms of unprofessionalism if you were to have any kind of fallout behind closed doors."

Grace gave a short, incredulous laugh. "Seriously?"

"Meaning you think it's not a problem?"

"Meaning I think you've got an overactive imagination."

Sarah snorted with derision. "Oh, please. You're telling me that things don't get incredibly complicated when colleagues start sleeping together?"

The profiler shrugged. "Well, it depends on the colleagues."

"You and Boyd, Grace; let's not skirt around this anymore."

"What do you want me to say, Sarah?"

The younger woman sighed heavily. "I want you to at least have the guts to be upfront about it. That way, no-one's in the dark and if necessary the rest of us can call you on any inappropriate behaviour or decisions, should they arise down the road."

Grace narrowed her eyes. "Is that what you think it means to be part of this team, then?"

"Don't try and put this onto me. We're talking about _your_ conduct here, not mine."

"You don't know the first thing about my conduct…."

"I've been here close to a month, Grace…and I had you and Boyd worked out within about five minutes of meeting you."

The psychologist raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Maybe not the fine details…but, yeah. It's glaringly obvious that you're far more than just colleagues and…."

"Right; we're friends. Close friends…and we've known each other a long time."

"And you expect me to believe that's the extent of it, do you?"

Grace gave a mirthless smile. "Frankly I don't care what you believe."

Sarah leant forward earnestly and sighed. "Look, Grace…personally I'm aware that it's none of my business…."

"Finally the penny's dropped," the profiler replied acidly.

"…but on a professional level, I can't afford to be part of a team that's compromised. And I think a relationship between the head of the Unit and his most trusted advisor counts as compromised, don't you?"

The psychologist shook her head. "Again, you're making an assumption, Sarah. You're presuming a relationship and predicting a worst case scenario based on gossip and hearsay."

"Based on my own observations," the DSI corrected before exhaling an irritated breath. "I don't understand why you won't just admit it."

"It's called respecting each other's privacy; a concept that's of the utmost importance in a team like this."

"Are you ashamed of yourself; is that it?"

"I've got absolutely no reason to be."

"Apart from the obvious: using sex as a means of steering the team towards the cases you have a vested interest in."

Grace felt her pulse suddenly quicken, her enraged blood boiling but she answered with a measured, "How dare you."

"I'm not saying that's what I think…but it's how it might be interpreted by certain interested parties."

The older woman blinked in disbelief. "You're saying you'll go to the DCC."

"If I have to."

"Even with this non-information?"

Sarah shrugged. "You said it yourself; the Met grapevine is already rife with rumours….Add that to the observations of a fellow team-member….You can't deny it would make for compelling feedback."

Grace barked a short laugh. "And what exactly do you think she'd do with such information, Sarah? Secrete a camera in my bedroom? In Boyd's?"

"Don't be absurd."

"Your _proposition_ is absurd. If the DCC has got any sense she'll send you packing with an order to keep your nose out of your colleagues' private lives."

"I think she'd take me seriously if I were to lay my concerns on the line."

"And how do you think that would help your career? The DCC has been gunning for us for years and…." Realisation settled across the depths of the profiler's sapphire eyes as she trailed off into a brief silence. "I see. You think uncovering a scandal would help exonerate you. That the DCC would hand you the CCU on a plate; is that it?"

"I'm not after Boyd's job."

"So what could you possibly stand to gain, then?"

Sarah's voice rose infinitesimally in volume, her agitation growing. "It's called having integrity, Grace. It's about recognising a potential problem and acting on it."

"For the greater good?" Grace's tone was scathing. "Please."

"Look, I'm giving you the opportunity to put your side across, aren't I? It's your decision whether or not you take it."

"I get the feeling you're not going to believe whatever I say, Sarah. If I were to confirm your, for want of a better term, accusations about certain aspects of my personal life, you're likely to run straight to the DCC and tell her the team's on the verge of implosion…."

"I just want you to be honest; that's not too much to ask, is it?"

"….Whereas if I _deny_ what you're saying, chances are you'll brand me a liar and tell Maureen Smith we're covering our backs."

"Going to the DCC is a last resort, Grace. I'll only do it if I really feel I've got no other choice."

"Are we to consider it a threat, then?"

"Just a warning."

"Well…in that case, I consider myself duly warned."

Sarah's gaze was piercing, her pale eyes solidifying with intensity. "I'll ask you one final time, Grace: are you, or are you not involved in an intimate relationship with Boyd?"

"And I'll tell you again," Grace replied neutrally, "that I'm declining to answer. You've got absolutely no right to even ask the question and quite frankly that's what I'll tell the DCC if she comes knocking."

"Suit yourself." The DSI inclined her head before rising abruptly to her feet. "I think it's time I heard what Boyd's got to say on the matter, don't you?"

The psychologist laughed darkly. "Oh, be my guest, Sarah. Be my bloody guest."

The younger woman strode towards the door, pausing only to glance back at the profiler before stepping over the threshold. "I hope he's worth it, Grace. I hope putting the future of this Unit at risk is worth the pathetic middle-aged kicks."

"Get out."

With a final, triumphant smile at the venom lacing the older woman's tone, Sarah flew swiftly from the room, leaving Grace to drop her head instantly into her hands, waves of nausea flooding her body as she drew her fingers roughly across her eyes. _Shit. Oh, shit._ Bracing herself, Grace picked up her telephone handset and dialled the familiar internal number, his voice gruff at the other end of the line as he responded momentarily.

"Yeah?"

"Peter…." His forename escaped her lips before she could stop it and she cursed herself silently, the remainder of her words cloying thickly in her throat.

His tone at once was gentle, thoroughly saturated with genuine concern. "You alright?"

"No, not really. She's on her way to you."

"Who?"

"Sarah."

"Fucking great. Spanish Inquisition time, is it?"

"It's not funny, Boyd," she sighed deeply. "Just…be warned. And try not to lose your temper."

"I'll just tell her to…." A sharp tapping of knuckle to glass reverberated through the phone line. "Speak of the devil."

"I mean it, Peter. Don't let her get under your skin, whatever she says."

"I'll do my best."

He rang off abruptly then and Grace sat back in her chair, suddenly aware of the awkward tension coiling through her shoulders, the tightly wound muscles of her back, and she released her breath deliberately slowly, willing the return of her equilibrium. _God, she'll be lucky if he doesn't just launch her straight back through the door_, she thought, a crooked smile playing across her lips before sobriety quickly reasserted itself. _This could spiral out of control so easily. And it's not like we'll have a leg to stand on if the DCC gets involved….Jesus, Sarah. Thanks for the unequivocal gesture of support. It's so very much appreciated…._

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: Well, I think I finally know where I'm going with this fic – at last! Hopefully this chapter is up to par – be warned for strong language as Boyd and Sarah both lose their tempers….Other than that, enjoy! :)

* * *

><p>"Come in," Boyd barked shortly, removing his reading glasses and looking up from his scattered files, returning the telephone handset in his grasp hastily back to its base and affixing a neutral expression to his features, despite the righteous pounding of his heart against the bones of his chest.<p>

Sarah stepped swiftly into the room, halting in her tracks and raising a knowing eyebrow as she noted his actions. "I see. Grace already given you due warning, has she?"

Boyd's expression darkened infinitesimally and he fought to maintain an even tone. "Take a seat, Sarah."

She held his gaze for a long moment before acquiescing, her lithe body folding into the proffered chair, the tension in her posture clear as she immediately crossed her arms. "You did say your door was always open."

The senior DSI's stare was glacial. "To discuss work-related problems, as you damn well know."

"This _is_ a work-related problem."

He inclined his head in challenge. "Go on, then."

Sarah exhaled incredulously. "You're not serious. You actually expect me to believe you don't know what I've come in here to say?"

"I want to hear it from you."

"Because you don't think I've got the guts?"

Boyd barked a mirthless laugh. "I've got no doubts you've got the guts…."

"What, then?"

"….What I doubt is your sense of better judgement." He narrowed his eyes, the pitch of his voice dropping to a dangerously lower register. "Why don't you prove me wrong?"

Sarah raised her chin in defiance, her pale eyes never leaving his. "By_ not_ asking you if you're sleeping with Grace?"

He ignored her and continued steadily, "By keeping your damned mouth shut."

"In case I 'out' the two of you, you mean?" she scoffed in derision. "Give me a break, Boyd. The whole of the Met already knows."

"Right. This being the same grapevine that believes I spend my days beating suspects to a pulp and breaking every rule in the book."

"It's a question of knowing which rumours to believe."

"Interesting that you're choosing to believe the ones regarding my personal rather than professional conduct."

"It amounts to the same thing when you're heading up a Unit."

"Does it?"

"Of course. If you're having an inappropriate relationship with a subordinate."

Boyd fought the urge to roll his eyes. "She's not my subordinate."

"Colleague, then. What difference does it make?"

"What difference does any of it make? Whatever may or may not be happening in my private life, it's got absolutely nothing to do with how I run this Unit."

"It does if the person you're sleeping with is also a member of said Unit." Sarah threw up her hands in frustration. "Jesus, why can't either of you see that?"

"Because it's bollocks. Complete and utter bollocks."

She raised a sceptical eyebrow. "So you'd be okay with it if other members of this team were sleeping together, would you? You wouldn't consider that a potential conflict of interest?"

"Not if they kept a clear line between their professional responsibilities and their personal lives; no."

"That's how you justify it to yourself then, is it? The fact that no-one's ever caught you?"

Boyd took a deep breath, willing an uncharacteristic calm to his bloodstream, Grace's warning words reverberated clearly around his skull. "Did I say that?"

"You honestly only think it would be a problem if…?"

"If people were spending the working day shagging against their desk tops?" He blew out a disdainful breath. "Of course that would be a problem. But it's hardly bloody likely, is it?"

"And you don't think it runs deeper than that? That if two people are in a relationship it can affect how they interact at work and as a consequence, affect the whole dynamic of a team?"

"You've been here five minutes, Sarah. I don't think you're exactly in a position to be lecturing me on the dynamics of my team."

"It's more than just team dynamics, Boyd. I'm serious about it being a conflict of interest; a potentially catastrophic conflict of interest, at that."

He shook his head dismissively. "If you honestly think that my professional judgement could be so easily compromised…."

"You're saying it couldn't? That if you were pushed to choose between your relationship with Grace and your responsibilities to this Unit…?"

"And what kind of scenario do you think that could possibly be applicable in?"

Sarah smiled triumphantly. "So you_ are_ admitting to a relationship, then?"

Boyd felt his patience evaporate in a sudden mist. "Oh, for fuck's sake, grow up, Sarah."

"No, I just want to be clear. I think you owe this team at least that much."

"So what are you proposing here? That I call a meeting specifically to document the intimate details of my sex life…?"

She rolled her eyes. "Now who needs to grow up?"

"_What_, then?"

"Just an admission. An admission that you're putting this team in a vulnerable position because you're having difficulty keeping it in your trousers."

"Give me a fucking break."

"Are you denying it?"

"Just what exactly are you accusing me of?" Boyd exhaled forcefully, irritation bubbling hotly beneath his skin. "Screwing Grace or screwing every member of my team?"

"Oh, for God's sake…."

"I'm deadly serious. You're throwing unfounded allegations around with impunity and you expect me not to call you on it?"

"It's semantics, Boyd; whether it's Grace or someone else in the Unit, my concerns remain the same." Sarah ran a hand roughly through her hair and sighed heavily as she considered her preceding words. "I just don't understand what was going through your mind when you thought it would be a good idea to start a relationship with a colleague. You're a senior police officer with more than thirty years' experience and you…."

"I don't have to explain anything to you; who the hell do you think you are?"

The younger officer's pale eyes hardened to stone as she continued venomously, "I mean, what was it, Boyd; desperation? Where you really so hard up that you couldn't find anyone outside of the Unit to…?"

"You're pathetic. Either start outlining some proven concerns about this Unit or get back to work and stop embarrassing yourself."

"You're not listening to me."

"Oh, I am, Sarah. But all I'm hearing is your dogged and vitriolic determination to force cracks into this team without due cause."

"That's not what I'm doing. This isn't personal, Boyd; if Grace worked for someone else, it wouldn't even be an issue."

Boyd snorted contemptuously, his voice laden with sarcasm. "That's big of you. I'm so relieved I'd have your approval."

"I'm just saying I'm well aware that it would be none of my business."

"And it's your business now because…?"

Sarah threw up her hands, her stomach twisting with frustration. "Because you're her fucking _boss _in all but name, for Christ's sake! Because this is a Unit that's already on a knife-edge and one that doesn't need people with personal agendas to compromise its position within the Force any further!"

"Oh, come on! You're honestly telling me you're so fucking altruistic that the future of this team is top of your priority list?"

"As opposed to what?"

"As opposed to looking out for yourself! Don't try to pretend you don't have a personal agenda here too, Sarah…."

"Of course I do!" The blonde blew out a harsh breath. "Jesus Christ, Boyd; I'm more than aware that if I fuck up here then that's pretty much it for me as far as my career is concerned!"

"And you think that antagonising your new colleagues is the key to that, do you?"

"I'm just trying to safeguard this Unit against implosion! Personal relationships are an absolute guarantee for that!"

"Based on what? Your own experience?"

Sarah's emerald eyes darkened angrily, a jolt running through her as she read an insinuation behind his words. "You think I shagged my way to my rank?"

"Of course I don't; I wouldn't stoop to your level…."

"Oh, how very fucking noble of you."

"….But this is exactly how rumours get started. And it doesn't help when people blindly believe such rumours instead of…."

"I'm _not_ blindly believing the rumours. I have eyes, Boyd…."

"That have seen what?"

"Enough to know that I'm right."

Boyd rolled his eyes. "Well, that's conclusive, then. Call the fucking review board."

"Whatever. I know I haven't got this wrong." She shook her head with determination. "My conscience is clear, Boyd; can you say the same?"

The senior DSI held her gaze squarely, fire rippling across the surface of his obsidian orbs, his voice dropping threateningly. "Unequivocally."

Sarah snorted disparagingly. "Because you don't think you're doing anything wrong?"

"You know, I'm getting pretty damned sick of repeating myself here…."

"So don't bother, then."

"…but I'll say it again and this time, open your bloody ears: whatever I do in the privacy of my own home has absolutely no bearing on how I lead this team. End of story."

"Maybe not at the moment…but how can you be so sure it wouldn't affect your judgement long-term?"

"I'm assuming you're implying that if someone had a gun to Grace's head I'd lose the plot."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Do you really think I'd cope well with that particular scenario if it was Spencer? Or even you, for that matter?"

"It would be compounded if it was Grace, though, wouldn't it? And I'm not even talking about that extreme an example."

"Well, go on, then; astound me."

"Alright; say you blindly follow Grace's input on a suspect and she turns out to be wildly off the mark…."

"She's never wildly off the mark…."

"…with the result being that a killer gets off or that another member of the team gets hurt. You simply can't afford to have lapses like that, Boyd, it…."

"…and even if she was in that particular instance, do you really believe I'm that fucking stupid as to not challenge her on a call I disagreed with?"

Sarah shrugged. "If she's leading you around by your dick…."

He studiously ignored her despite the anger flaring in his chest. "Grace and I have drawn blood with our arguments over the past ten years, Sarah…."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that we've never shied away from confrontation when our professional opinions have differed. I don't hesitate when I disagree with her and vice versa."

"That proves nothing."

"It blows your whole hypothetical scenario out of the water."

"Hardly. Just because you fight doesn't mean she's not capable of influencing you and your decisions."

"Anyone on this team is capable of influencing me, whether I'm sleeping with them or not. It's called drawing on the vast array of expertise at my disposal."

Sarah rubbed a hand across her eyes in irritation. "But keeping your personal feelings out of work-related discussions is…."

"Eminently possible."

"It's not, Boyd. The fact that you're having a relationship with someone who you work so closely with means that you can't help but have the lines blurred on occasion."

He gave a dismissive shake of his head. "You're making something out of nothing."

"The trouble is that if the occasion coincided with a make-or-break case, it could fracture this Unit beyond repair."

"But you're talking about an entirely speculative situation that might never even happen!"

"Or it might; and are you really willing to risk the integrity, the reputation, the very _existence_ of this Unit for the sake of your own personal gratification…?"

"What exactly are you threatening me with?"

She shrugged. "It's not a threat…."

"But?"

"But don't misunderstand me, Boyd." Sarah leant forward, her eyes glittering fiercely. "One more evasive or defensive word from you and I won't hesitate to go to the DCC about this."

Boyd threw up his hand, noisily disturbing the papers on his desk. "Oh, do whatever the fuck you like…."

"I will. I have genuine concerns here and…."

"…but if you want to crawl up Maureen Smith's backside, do it on your own time and stop wasting mine."

She laughed humourlessly. "Are you kicking me out?"

"You're damn right I am. Get the fuck of my sight and don't come back until you have something meaningful to contribute to this team."

"Boyd…."

"I said get the fuck out."

Sarah stood abruptly and turned on her heel without a backward glance, ignoring Spencer Jordan's raised eyebrows as she stalked angrily from the bullpen, her heart hammering painfully against her ribcage, her feet moving of their own volition towards the building's exit.

Boyd released his breath into the suddenly empty office, the ball of fury burning acidly through his stomach dissipating into every fibre of his body as his mind incessantly replayed the words of his fellow Superintendent, the venom in her tone seeping through the layers of his consciousness and settling uncomfortably across his chest. _ Where the hell has all of this come from?_ He wondered with a frown. _Is she really so fucking insecure about her position that she'll stop at nothing to jeopardise mine?_ _Christ, she's a fucking snake in the grass. And if I'm not careful she'll constrict the life out of this Unit without even bloody trying._

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: Thank you all for your lovely comments – you really do keep me going! For those following 'Ebb & Flow', I am hoping the muse will start to re-focus on it so I can get the next chapter written – apologies for the huge delay with that one! In the meantime…hope you enjoy this….

* * *

><p>Boyd leant against the edge of the desk in the quiet stillness of the bullpen and stared unseeingly at the evidence board, a dull ache throbbing at his temples as he struggled to force his mind to concentrate. The images and words haphazardly adorning the clear Perspex blurred in a haze before his eyes and he removed his glasses with a sigh, running a hand across his face and frowning. <em>Jesus Christ, this is hopeless<em>, he thought irritably. _Two dead children with a question mark over their killer's identity and all I can think about is that bloody woman and her bloody, fucking poison. _He sighed once more, the frustrated exhalation almost deafening in the tranquillity of the empty room. _Or is it that I'm worried she might be right? _He wondered darkly, the notion lapping uneasily against the edges of his consciousness, a hard knot forming in his stomach as he allowed the question to filter through his mind. _ Could the fact that Grace and I share a bed be setting this team on the road to oblivion? Could I really separate my feelings for her from our professional responsibilities, if it came to it? God, we've been doing it for years but to have a third party call it into question….For fuck's sake, I wish I'd fought harder when they foisted her on me. I wish I'd told them just to shove it up their arses, consequences be damned…._

"Penny for them?"

He smiled crookedly, instantly calmed by the familiar voice and he turned his head to see Grace emerging purposefully from the darkened confines of her office, her delicate fingers curled around a bottle of wine and two glasses, raising her offering in silent question as she approached him.

"No need," he intoned gratefully. "You read my mind."

"No lectures about cutting down then? Even at this late hour?"

"After today?" he scoffed disdainfully. "Please."

She chuckled softly and unscrewed the bottle, pouring two generous measures of the rich burgundy fluid before handing him a glass and settling closely beside him, the warmth of his arm against hers comforting in the dim light of the otherwise unoccupied bullpen. She took a large draw from her own glass before addressing him anew.

"You okay?"

He took a large swallow of wine, the liquid burning pleasantly down his throat to coat his chest with warmth. "Yeah," he breathed eventually, his eyes flickering towards her as he caught the scepticism playing across her features.

"Hm. You sound it."

He sighed wearily. "What do you want me to say, Grace?"

She held up a placating palm. "Nothing."

"I haven't got the energy, alright?"

"Fine." She paused momentarily, allowing them both to take another sip of wine. "Do you want to talk about the case?"

He exhaled deeply, his broad chest shuddering, his shoulder rising and falling heavily against hers. "No. I'm getting bloody nowhere with thinking about it."

Grace raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Don't mind me if I faint from the shock, then, will you?"

He took an enthusiastic pull from his drink before levelling a sideways glare at her. "If you haven't got anything useful to say, Grace…."

"Don't say anything at all?"

"Well, I was going to go with 'leave the wine and piss off' but, whatever."

She smiled mildly, her eyes twinkling as she turned slowly, deliberately placing her glass onto the desk before beginning to step away from him, her smile broadening as she felt him encircle her waist with a growl, returning her towards him and settling her in front of his thighs, her back flush against his chest. She sighed softly as his arms held her fast, his head dropping to the crook of her shoulder, and she felt the tension begin to seep gradually from his body as his breathing slowed against her neck.

"Do you want to talk about Sarah?" she ventured cautiously, after several indulgent seconds had passed.

He groaned loudly, his forehead moving to rest against her collar bone, his reply muffled by the soft material of her top. "Not really."

"Don't you think we should?"

"I'll only say something I regret," he murmured, the breath leaving his lungs in a rush of anguish. "I don't think I exactly handled it well."

"Hm. If I was feeling bitchy I'd say she deserved it."

He smirked. "But of course you're not."

"Of course not."

"I take no-one's seen her since she stormed out this morning."

"No; and to be honest I don't think anyone's missed her."

"Spence or Eve said anything?"

"Not about this. They've both been keeping their heads down, I think." Grace sighed, angling her head to glance back towards him. "What did you say to her, Peter?"

"Well, I think I told her to fuck off, didn't I? Did I not shout it loudly enough?"

"You did. Your walls aren't exactly sound proof."

"So there you go."

"Seriously; what did you say to her before that?"

Boyd exhaled forcefully, shifting to nestle his chin into the hollow of her shoulder, her perfume pleasantly assaulting his senses as he moved. "Just…that whatever she thinks our relationship is or isn't, it has no bearing on how we conduct ourselves professionally."

"I'm guessing she wasn't exactly keen to accept that opinion."

"She can't see it. She's absolutely fixated on it being a disaster for the Unit."

Grace paused briefly before speaking again, luxuriating in the feel of his body enveloping hers. "Anything else?"

"Oh, for God's sake; I wasn't about to hammer the final nail into our collective coffin by telling her that I'm in love with you, was I?" He groaned loudly, irritably as he felt her squeeze his hand, her body melting further into his as she responded warmly to his words. "Don't, Grace. That was a slip of the tongue."

"So to speak."

He kissed her gently on the neck, his lips brushing against the familiarly sensitive skin, confidently aware of the requisite pressure needed to make her shiver faintly beneath his ministrations. "Need a reminder?" he murmured softly, smiling as she groaned huskily.

"Behave," she managed momentarily, forcing herself to shrug away from him, placing a hand atop his across her stomach to discourage his further attention.

"Indulge me, Grace. I've had a fucking awful day and I could do with…."

"You do realise we're proving Sarah's point here, though, don't you? About inappropriate behaviour in the work place?"

"It's eleven thirty at night; and we're completely alone in the dungeon."

"It's not the point. If we're still in the office then technically we're still on duty…"

"You're not helping to improve my mood here, you know."

"Would anything?"

He gave a feral grin. "Yeah. You lifting up your skirt, taking your knickers off and shifting your hips a bit."

Grace rolled her eyes. "You've got to take this seriously."

"I _am_ taking it seriously," he sighed, sobering instantly. "Believe me, I am."

She disengaged from his arms then to assuage any further temptation and resumed her former position at his side, reclaiming her wine from the desk at their backs and taking a generous sip as she surveyed him. "What are you worrying about specifically? The DCC?"

He barked a short laugh. "God, no. Maureen Smith might not exactly be my biggest fan but she's straight down the line. I'm sure she'd say that as long as it's not interfering with our work then it's not an issue."

"I agree. So, what else?"

He sighed roughly. "I don't know, Grace….She's just…got me thinking…and I'm not sure I like where my train of thought is headed."

Grace blinked, absorbing the anxiety raking across the surface of his eyes. "You're wondering whether she's right."

"Christ, I don't want her to be," he replied vehemently, unsurprised by the depth of her perception. "I mean, the way she's gone about it, this bullish disrespect for our privacy…."

"It's outrageous."

"It is."

"But you're wondering if, fundamentally, she's got a point?"

"Yeah."

Grace sighed. "The same thing's been bothering me, if I'm honest."

"I'm not saying she has. I still maintain that what goes on behind closed doors should have no consequence for our working relationship and I believe it."

"But?"

"But…now I've had all day to process it and she hasn't been here to rile me up again….I'm starting to doubt myself. About whether I could really maintain an appropriate perspective if a situation arose."

"And you're worried what the potential fallout would be for the Unit?"

"I don't want to do anything to jeopardise this Unit. I've sacrificed too fucking much and I…."

"I know."

He caught the slight edge to her tone and turned his head to look at her. "Grace?"

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, her features contorting briefly as she wrestled with the stabbing pain that squeezed her chest. "I'm just wondering…what it all means, Peter."

He studied her intently, dread settling in his gut as realisation burned through his skull. "You're not serious. Tell me you're not."

"I know what this job means to you…and if you're thinking that cooling things off with me might make your life…."

"What? Unbearable? Insufferable?"

She smiled at his gruff admission. "I was going to say 'easier'."

"In what sense could that possibly make my life easier?"

"Oh, come on. There'd be no potential conflict of interest, no detrimental effects on the Unit…."

"Right; because working with an ex would be plain sailing, wouldn't it?"

"Well, that's the other option, isn't it? Me looking for a new job."

He sighed irritably and turned his body to face her. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"Pandering to Sarah's crap."

"I'm just trying to look at the situation objectively," she sighed. "If she's right…."

"I never once said that she was."

"No, I know. But if she is…if our relationship, however discrete, could negatively impact on how we do our jobs…."

"So your solution is to just accept her supposition, is it?"

"I didn't say that…but I…."

"Grace," he intoned wearily, rubbing a hand across his eyes before reaching out to brush his fingers across her cheek. "When I said I didn't want to jeopardise the Unit, I didn't mean it was an either-or situation."

"I just wouldn't want you to feel compromised. I know what your work has cost you."

"Right; and I've got no intention of it costing me you as well."

"Boyd…."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. What you're suggesting is not an option on either count, alright?" _Because I don't think I could do this without you…._

Grace felt relief flood her body as he encouraged her further towards him, the quiet vehemence of his words calming against the roiling anguish in her stomach. "Alright."

"Good. Now, come here."

He closed the final gap between them to press his lips tenderly to hers, his mouth moving gently as he kissed her slowly, sincerely, her lips parting as his tongue sought hers for the briefest of moments before pulling back to look at her anew.

"Let's go home," he murmured huskily, grinning as she brushed her mouth to his once more in agreement, her palm coming to rest lightly against his chest.

"I just need to get my bag," she replied, smiling at his low groan of frustration as she disengaged from his arms and moved back towards her office. "Two minutes."

"I'll time you," he called, raising his voice in her wake. "And if you're any longer then I'm coming in there and we're breaking every rule you've ever laid down about that bloody couch…."

She laughed loudly and Boyd's grin broadened boyishly as he shifted against the edge of the desk, pushing his residual anxiety to the core of his being and focussing on the sense of anticipation prickling exquisitely along the length of his spine.

* * *

><p><em>Oh my God. I've got to get out of here<em>. From the hidden darkness of the shadows, Sarah Cavendish took a shuddering breath, her tense body quivering as she forced her legs from their cramped position and slid quietly from the bullpen, walking swiftly along the corridor with her heart beating a furious rhythm against her ribcage. She held her breath unconsciously as she strode from the building, willing her mind not to surrender to her rising panic as she fumbled with her car keys, exhaling with relief into the cool stillness of the vehicle's interior as she slipped inside.

_I don't think they saw me. Thank Christ for small mercies._ She allowed her head to fall back against the head rest, her eyes closing as she recalled the events of the previous hour. She had returned to the station with the intention of retrieving the jacket she had abandoned in the midst of her seething rage that morning, her breath catching as she had stumbled upon Grace appearing from her office and heading towards Boyd's tense form hunched at the evidence board. Sarah had quickly moved into the inky blackness of one corner of the room, her mind in overdrive as she realised the potential benefit in eavesdropping on their private conversation but as the minutes had ticked by she had become increasingly uncomfortable; the magnitude of the couple's connection was undeniable and she had felt her skin flush against her will as she was unable to tear her gaze away. She sighed heavily, rubbing a hand across her eyes. _I had no idea it was this serious,_ she thought soberly. _Sleeping together is bad enough…but if he's in love with her…._She sighed again, uncertainty knotting painfully in her stomach before she resolutely pushed the sensation away. _There's no getting away from it. I've got no choice but to inform the DCC_. _This can't be allowed to continue._ With a determined shake of her head to dispel the tendrils of guilt creeping through her heart, she turned the key in the ignition and drove promptly from the car park.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: So sorry for the delay in getting this written – we had a family bereavement recently so all of my time and energy was taken up with that. I'm hoping this is still flowing ok but please, _please_ tell me if you think it's not! Thanks so much, all x

* * *

><p>"Come in."<p>

_I can do this. I have to do this_. Sarah took a cleansing breath at the clipped summons and squared her shoulders before stepping over the threshold into the senior officer's domain, her heart pummelling the bones of her chest despite her desperate efforts to the contrary. She had endured several sleepless nights debating the wisdom of her now present actions, a combination of guilt and anxiety repeatedly washing over her in waves, but she had finally wrestled her niggling doubts to the ground and made the appointment. _It's not as if I have a choice_, she thought firmly as her hand reached for the cool metal of the door handle. _They've as good as forced me into this position after all…._

"Thank you for seeing me at such short notice," she opened aloud, forcing herself to smile brightly as Maureen Smith gestured her into the chair across from her desk, the DAC nodding in curt acknowledgement as Sarah obeyed instantly.

"Not all, Sarah," the older woman intoned warmly. "How are you settling in to the CCU?"

Sarah inclined her head, carefully arranging her features into a mask of neutrality. "Fine, ma'am. The work's interesting and I'm definitely being stretched."

"That was good work on the Julie Rees case. I can't imagine that was an easy one to start with."

"It was certainly a challenge…but I think I made a significant contribution, given the circumstances of my assignment within the Unit."

"That's good to hear." The DAC regarded her intently through narrowed hazel eyes, noting the increasing tension in the younger woman's posture as they moved swiftly through the platitudes. "I'm assuming however that there's some problem you want to discuss otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here."

Sarah sighed softly, resisting a powerful urge to run her fingers shakily through her hair. "I wasn't sure at first whether I should say anything…."

"About what?"

"…but then I came to the conclusion that it's something you need to know. Information that you might need to act upon."

"Regarding?"

The DSI inhaled slowly, her eyes locking steadily to Smith's as she willed composure to her adrenaline-fuelled blood stream. "Regarding Peter Boyd…and his suitability to run the CCU."

Smith raised an eyebrow. "You're going to have to be more specific, Sarah; what exactly are you talking about here?"

"I'm talking about inappropriate behaviour, about…."

The DAC waved a hand dismissively, cutting the younger woman off abruptly. "Allegations like that have been flying around for years."

"Not like this."

"Well, go on, then. Stop beating about the bush and give me some facts."

"Alright." Sarah took a bolstering breath, quelling the sudden wave of guilt that surged through her stomach. "I have reason to believe that Boyd is currently engaged in a personal relationship with a member of his team…and I have grave concerns about what the consequences of such a relationship might be in terms of the integrity of the Unit."

The older woman allowed the intensely intoned words to disperse into the stillness of the room before speaking again, feeling a knot of tension beginning to gnaw at the top of her spine. "I see…and do you have any evidence to support these allegations or are you basing it all on supposition and insinuation?"

Sarah blinked, realisation flickering through her chest. "This isn't new to you, is it?"

"I'm not above hearing rumours, Sarah."

"So you know exactly which team member I'm talking about, then?"

Smith inclined her head in assent. "As I said: the rumours have been rife for years on the subject."

"But you've never taken them seriously?"

"I've never had any reason to."

Sarah raised her eyebrows incredulously. "A senior officer having an affair with his most trusted advisor doesn't constitute a potentially serious problem?"

The DAC's expression hardened infinitesimally. "Emotive language aside….it would only be a serious problem if it interfered with the workings of the department."

"That's exactly my point, ma'am. I think the chances are that if Boyd isn't already being unduly influenced by Grace Foley then it stands to reason that he could be at some point in the future…."

"That's pure speculation…."

"…and it could end up being the Unit's downfall."

"Based on a rumour? I think you're blowing this out of all proportion, Superintendent."

"I can assure you that I'm not." Sarah leant forward earnestly. "I overheard them talking…and not only are they definitely in a relationship, it's a serious one."

Smith paused briefly, considering the weight of the junior officer's words before continuing, "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Knowing Peter Boyd, he wouldn't do anything by halves."

"So, you agree that such a relationship has the potential for compromising the work of the Unit?"

"I didn't say that."

Sarah fought a powerful urge to exhale loudly with frustration. "Look, ma'am, this isn't personal…."

"Isn't it? Because it's damn well starting to sound like you have an axe to grind."

"I don't care who he sleeps with…but…it's common knowledge that personal relationships in close-knit teams almost inevitably create a conflict of interest."

"But that's not backed up by _fact_ in this case, Sarah." The DAC sighed. "The CCU has been in existence for practically a decade and their success rate is almost off the chart. Assuming you weren't mistaken in what you overheard…."

"I wasn't. Believe me, I wasn't."

"…then it's clearly having no impact on how they conduct themselves within the constructs of the team or how they work together professionally."

Sarah shrugged. "Maybe not yet."

"I can't act on situations that haven't happened yet or may never happen…and to suggest I could is naïve at best and subversive at worst."

"I don't want this Unit to fall apart, ma'am. I thought I was being responsible by bringing this to your attention."

"My point is that your actions could be easily misinterpreted, Sarah."

The Superintendent blinked. "I don't want Boyd's job, if that's what you're implying."

"Don't you?"

"I know why I'm there. I know I screwed up and this is my punishment."

"It's not about punishment…."

"I have genuine concerns about his conduct…."

"Because he's choosing to sleep with a member of his team, presumably consensually?" Smith blew out an irritated breath. "You're not fresh out of Hendon, Sarah; surely you know this sort of thing goes on and always will do?"

"So, that's it, is it? You're going to continue to turn a blind eye and expect me to do the same?"

"I expect you to get on with your new role."

"And if that role ends up being compromised because Boyd is too blinded by his personal situation to run the Unit?"

The DAC's demeanour darkened further, her eyes hardening to flint. "Need I remind you, Superintendent, that he lost his son recently and still continued to function as head of the CCU without even a momentary dip in conviction rate…."

Sarah flushed deeply. "I'm aware of that…."

"…so I hardly think he's likely to become distracted by something so relatively benign as a relationship with his co-worker, do you?"

The younger woman supressed a sigh. "The point is, ma'am…."

"The point is that Peter Boyd's personal life is none of anyone else's business until such time as it begins to impact upon his ability to do his job." The DAC drew a breath and leant forward, her elbows coming to rest against the smooth mahogany of her desk. "Look, Sarah, I'll be frank: I'm not exactly Boyd's biggest advocate, I never have been. I'm more than aware of his professional shortcomings…but I refuse to hang him out to dry until he explicitly does something that warrants it."

"And the fact that he could make a serious mistake because of the way he's choosing to conduct his private life?"

"That statement could be applied to any one of us."

"But it's surely compounded when your partner is someone you work with, particularly when the team is so small."

"They obviously have it under control. I wouldn't expect anything less from two seasoned professionals."

Sarah was unable to prevent a frustrated exhalation. "With respect, ma'am, you're not listening to me…."

Smith narrowed her eyes. "I can assure you that I most certainly am…but I'll say it again: I am not going to take action against a successful officer based purely on presumptions about how his personal life_ might_ affect his work at some unknown point in the future."

"I just…."

"If you can find a genuine reason why Peter Boyd should be hauled before a Review Board, then by all means come back to me and I'll consider it. Until that day comes, however, I recommend that you keep your head down and get on with the assignment you've been given…and stop interfering in the personal affairs of your colleagues that are about as much your business as they are mine."

Sarah raised her chin defiantly at the coolly intense reprimand despite the agonising churning of her stomach. "Ma'am."

"Was there anything else?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then I suggest you get back to your office and get on with your job."

With the blunt dismissal smarting in her ears, Sarah rose abruptly from her chair and strode from the office, desperate to conceal the trembling of her legs, the righteous anger rattling through her bones, the embarrassed flush inflaming the skin of her cheeks.

As the door closed firmly behind her visitor, Maureen Smith released her breath slowly and sat back in her chair, rubbing a hand across her eyes. _Shit_, she thought vehemently. _ If Boyd's not careful, it'll be Mutiny on the bloody Bounty….I want to see him answer for his past professional conduct as much as the rest of the brass but I'll be damned if he'll be crucified for what he does behind closed doors….I can only hope Grace Foley will keep him on the straight-and-narrow long enough to make sure he doesn't shoot himself in the foot as far as Sarah Cavendish is concerned…._With a deepening frown, the DAC reached for her telephone, her fingers hesitated briefly before she willed them to dial the unfamiliar number.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: So sorry for the delay with this – my muse is just not playing ball at the moment; very frustrating. Also, I have just spotted that I haven't been consistent with Maureen Smith's rank throughout this story! Sometimes she's been DCC, sometimes DAC – really sorry about that, I'm annoyed with myself! From memory, I actually think she's DCC so if you read back over the previous chapter please substitute this for the times where I've called her DAC! Ugh, baby-brain!

* * *

><p>"Yes, ma'am. I'll be right over."<p>

Boyd replaced the receiver with a heavy sigh and sat back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his face. Maureen Smith had been ruthlessly business-like in tone, her clipped voice informing him in no uncertain terms that she expected him in her office within the next half hour to discuss 'recent allegations made by a member of his Unit regarding his conduct'. He sighed again, a forceful expulsion of air into the empty office. The DCC had revealed nothing of her own take on the subject and that alone had been enough to cause his gut to clench reflexively, a prickle of dread running the length of his spine.

"Grace," he called loudly, catching sight of the profiler as she passed his door en route to the bullpen and gesturing for her to enter the room, shaking his head slightly at her quizzical expression as she did so. "Shut the door, will you?"

She obeyed instantly and took a seat on his couch, crossing one slender leg over the other. "Everything okay?" she asked, her sapphire eyes appraising him as he groaned softly in response.

"I've been summoned to the DCC," he replied flatly, running a hand irritably through his silver hair.

"Ah. I suppose it's not entirely without precedent."

"No. It was only a matter of time."

Grace narrowed her eyes at the strain in his tone. "I thought you weren't worried?"

"I'm not."

"Well, you sound it."

Boyd exhaled heavily. "She didn't give anything away on the phone just then, no hint as to whether she thinks this whole thing is a colossal waste of her time and…."

"And that's unsettled you?"

He inclined his head. "I wouldn't quite say that. I'd just like to know what I'm facing before I go in there."

"Hm."

He raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything." Grace held up a placating palm to halt the impending line of questioning. "Just sounds like you're preparing for battle, that's all."

"Yeah, well…it's a point of view."

"You said Maureen Smith was fair?" She paused briefly as he nodded before continuing, "That's my experience of her too…and let's face it, she can't fire you based solely on allegations made about your private life, can she?"

"No…but if she's feeling arsey she can damn well make my life difficult. And yours too, for that matter."

Grace held his gaze despite the anxiety twisting in her stomach. "What are you going to tell her?"

He smirked crookedly. "Am I going to divulge the intimate details, you mean?"

"Yes."

"I hadn't really decided."

"Boyd…."

"Not a chance," he replied, sobering instantly at the solemn yet weary warning in her tone.

"And if the DCC presses you?"

"She won't."

"If she does?"

The boyish grin returned to his face unbidden. "Then I'll just tell her that I'm in a long-term relationship with a very attractive forensic psychologist; alright?"

Grace was unable to prevent herself from returning his expression despite the lingering concern flickering through her chest. "Know a few of those then, do you?"

"Oh, yeah. Dozens." His smile broadened as she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "That's just the point: she'll never know which individual I'm referring to."

"Well, even if that were true…it wouldn't exactly take a rocket scientist to work it out, would it?"

He scoffed. "It's irrelevant, Grace, because I'm not going to go there…and I'd be very surprised if she comes right out and asks me, anyway."

"We thought that about Sarah."

"Maureen Smith is a long way from being Sarah," he intoned gruffly. "I may not like the woman but she at least behaves like a professional and not like some spoilt fucking…."

"Boyd." She held up a warning palm to stem the tirade and sighed. "I just don't know what's going on in Sarah's head."

He shrugged. "If I was feeling kind and channelling you, I might mention the term 'Post-Traumatic Stress'."

Grace's features creased into an expression of exaggerated surprise. "I didn't think that was even in your vocabulary, let alone…."

"I said 'if', Grace. As it turns out, I'm neither."

"Regardless, it's probably a factor. But it still doesn't excuse her behaviour."

"No. Nothing does." He stood up swiftly from his chair then and retrieved his jacket, sliding his arms into the sleeves and stepping towards her. "I have to go."

Grace nodded and rose similarly, her hand reaching for the door handle. "Will you call me when you get out?"

He grunted. "If I'm still alive."

She tutted in mock disapproval and shook her head. "Drama queen."

"Bloody right."

Grace laughed as she opened the door and moved towards the bullpen, Boyd resisting a powerful urge to pull her back into his embrace, and he made his way swiftly up the stairs and towards the building's exit.

* * *

><p>Boyd strode purposefully down the New Scotland Yard corridor, willing away the temptation to grin maniacally in triumphant victory as he did so. His meeting with DCC Smith had been surprisingly succinct and calm, the senior officer's voice a study in measured control as she addressed him…<p>

…

"_Don't misunderstand me, Peter. I've made no secret of the fact that I think the CCU is superfluous to current policing requirements; you're a luxury that I don't personally believe this Force can, or should, stretch to…."_

"_I'm hoping there's a 'but' in there somewhere, Maureen."_

_The DCC smiled grimly. "But all that aside…your private life is just that. And as long as it doesn't have an impact on how you perform in your duties…."_

"_Which I think from my arrest sheet and my conviction quota you can safely assume that it doesn't."_

"…_then you're well within your rights to see whoever you want, whether or not they happen to be on the same team as you."_

_Boyd inclined his head. "Thank you."_

"_Although I must say, Peter, that such relationships are less than advisable with subordinates." She raised a hand as he drew a breath to reply. "And before you remind me that Doctor Foley isn't your subordinate, save your breath. You know exactly the point I'm trying to make."_

"_It's not a problem."_

"_Hm." Smith narrowed her eyes to appraise him. "I take it it's a long-term thing, then?"_

_He grinned in amusement and folded his arms across the breadth of his chest. "I thought you weren't going to ask me."_

"_Oh, I'm not. Just idly interested to know whether the grapevine really __**is **__running Chinese whispers or statements of fact."_

_Boyd shrugged impassively. "I'll leave it up to you."_

"_Then I'd stake my pension on it being a fact."_

_He laughed deeply. "That's a risky strategy in this economic climate, Maureen."_

_She gave him a knowing smile, her lips pressed tightly together. "Is it?"_

_He laughed again, the sound resonating against the bones of his chest. "Was there anything else?"_

_The DCC waved dismissively. "No. Get out of here before I change my mind."_

_Boyd rose swiftly from his seat and made to exit the room, relief flooding through him even as her voice called his name anew._

"_And, Boyd?"_

_He half-turned to face her, his eyebrows raised in question. "What?"_

"_Try not to antagonise Sarah Cavendish any further."_

_He bit back a sigh. "I haven't been antagonising her. If anything, it's been the other way round."_

"_She's a good officer, Boyd. I recommended her reassignment to the CCU myself."_

_Boyd's expression darkened infinitesimally. "As a way of keeping an eye on me, you mean?"_

"_Oh, for God's sake; she's not my spy."_

"_That's open to interpretation."_

"_I can assure you that it's not." Smith's eyes hardened to ice. "But let's be quite clear, Superintendent: I've told her to come straight back to me if there's even a hint of a decline in your professional conduct; do you understand?"_

"_Just so long as it's not further allegations about my private business?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Then, yes. I understand."_

"_Good."_

…

He had exited the office with her warning words gnawing at his nerves but with each step he took he found their weight lessening, the overwhelming emotion pervading his soul one of righteous relief, coupled with a tightening ball of anger in his stomach. _Even the DCC is on my side_, he thought bitterly. _So if Sarah Cavendish doesn't fucking apologise…._He took a deep breath and forced away the surging rage as he pulled his mobile from his pocket.

"Grace Foley," answered the soft voice at the other end of the line and Boyd supressed a sudden and unexpectedly erotic thought about the effect her voice had always had on his body.

"It's me," he replied, squinting into the sunshine as he walked back towards his car.

"How did it go?"

"Mostly fine. The DCC definitely doesn't think our personal lives are any kind of barrier to our professional conduct."

"Our?" she repeated questioningly, a slight note of amusement colouring her tone.

"I didn't have to tell her anything, Grace. You know as well as I do about the rumour mill."

"So you didn't deny it?"

"No. But I certainly didn't confirm it either."

"I doubt she expected anything different."

"She _is_ gunning for us, though. She more or less told Sarah to high-tail it back to her if I fuck up."

"As head of the Unit?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not surprised. She's never made any secret of the fact she's not keen on you. Or on us as a team, for that matter."

"Hm," he grunted gruffly, pausing briefly before speaking again. "Is Sarah in the office?" He could picture the profiler craning her neck to examine the space outside of her domain.

"As far as I know."

"Well, do me a favour and keep her there, will you, Grace?"

"On any particular pretext?"

He grinned savagely, aware that it would be projected into his voice. "Certainly not on the pretext that I'm coming back there to kick her arse."

Grace gave a gentle sigh. "I don't think she's scared of you, Boyd. Even if I did say that she'd probably only take it as a challenge."

"Well, she damn well should be scared…."

"And what do you think that kind of talk would achieve, realistically?"

"How about putting her in her place? Making it clear that I won't tolerate that kind of irrelevant bollocks on my team?"

"You'll just sound defensive. It'll add fuel to the fire."

"I don't give a shit. I told you what the DCC said and I think it's imperative that Sarah hears it."

Grace gave a shuddering exhalation. "You don't think it might be better to let it lie, to draw a line under it and…?"

"No." His reply was forceful, almost bullish. "She needs to apologise, Grace; it's as simple as that."

"If she won't?"

He smiled humourlessly, wolfishly. "You don't think I can make her?"

The psychologist stifled yet another sigh. "You do know if you 'make' her, it won't mean anything, don't you?"

"She just needs to see that she can't behave that way."

"Ah," Grace intoned knowingly. "So this is actually about you asserting your dominance."

He blew out a scornful breath. "Please."

"Well, isn't it?"

"I don't need to assert my dominance, as you bloody well know. She just needs to understand the pecking order…and that there are some lines it's unacceptable to cross."

"Hm," she murmured neutrally. "You don't need me to tell you you'd be wasting your breath, do you?"

"Whatever," he snapped irritably. "Just keep her in the office, would you?"

"Okay." She paused momentarily and took a deep, centring breath to assuage the frustration arcing along her nerves. "You on your way back?"

"Yeah. Twenty minutes at most."

"I'll see you then."

She made to ring off but he barked her name quickly to stop her, a sudden need to express himself overwhelming his senses. _Shit….Why do I always do this to her…?_ "Grace?"

"Yes?"

He sighed heavily, running a hand roughly through his hair, self-directed irritation tugging at his stomach. "I didn't mean….I wasn't trying to dismiss what you're saying…I just…."

She chuckled softly, incredulous at the extent of his uncharacteristic introspection. "I know. You're just pissed off."

"I'm way beyond pissed off, Grace…." He broke off and almost growled a sigh into the mouthpiece. "But I took it out on you and I…."

"You've been doing that for years, Boyd. It's par for the course by now."

"Oh, come on. I'm trying here."

She sighed softly, the air expelling from her lungs in a fluid wave. "Let's talk about this later, alright? When we're face to face."

"Grace…."

"Later, Boyd. Just get back here and say whatever it is you've got to say to Sarah."

He supressed a frustrated sigh. "Okay."

"Don't drive like a lunatic."

"Bye, Grace."

He hung up then, his heart still compressed beneath the pressure of self-recrimination but unable to prevent a slight grin from tugging at his lips at the concern in her parting warning.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See chapter 1.

**A/N**: Welcome to the final chapter! A few warnings I feel are necessary here – firstly, it is pretty long and I apologise for that. I'm sure I probably could have made it into two chapters but to be honest I just wanted to get it finished so I can move on to other things! Secondly, although there are no specific spoilers, there is a deliberate feeling of foreshadowing for the events of S9 from the episode 'Solidarity' onwards. Other than that, the only thing left to say is thank you for sticking with this fic – your lovely comments have been absolutely priceless to me and I'm very grateful for all the support :)

* * *

><p>Boyd strode purposefully into the bullpen, his eyes glancing briefly towards Grace's office and catching her warning stare before continuing on his journey, the storm cloud swirling ominously atop his shoulders darkening as he caught sight of the focus for his irritation. Sarah was sitting quietly at her computer, her fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard as her eyes flickered between her paperwork and the screen, studiously ignoring him until he barked her name.<p>

"Sarah, my office. Now."

He stalked into his office, expecting her to instantly obey, anger threatening to explode through his chest as he watched her rise deliberately slowly from her desk and saunter to the threshold, Spencer Jordan releasing an incredulous breath in her wake.

"Problem?" she queried casually.

Boyd fought a powerful urge to snarl at her audaciousness. "Just get in here and close the door, will you?"

The Superintendent raised an eyebrow. "Do you not use 'please' and 'thank you' in this team?"

"I'm not going to ask you again."

"You're not asking me now."

"Sarah," Spence's deep voice called from across the bullpen before Boyd could reply. "Do yourself a favour and go in there. You're only…."

"Who the hell asked for your input?" she snapped, whirling around to face him, her pale eyes darkening irascibly.

The Inspector folded his arms and frowned deeply. "What's your problem?"

"Okay, okay," Grace intoned softly, having moved from behind her desk to the juncture of her office with the bullpen, one palm raised in a gesture of placation. "Let's all just try to calm down a bit, shall we?"

Sarah's expression was glacial as she turned towards the profiler. "I don't need you telling me what to do."

"Sarah!" From inside his office, Boyd's voice had suddenly risen in volume, the warning interwoven with her name clear.

"Oh, right," the blonde woman sneered, her gaze flickering between them. "I talk back to your _girlfriend_ and suddenly it's…."

"Don't be so fucking childish," the older DSI snapped.

"I'm just stating a fact."

Grace sighed softly, wearily. "Just go into the office, Sarah. Whatever you might think, the rest of us really don't want to hear it."

"Is that right?" Sarah barked a humourless laugh, her voice saturated with sarcasm. "You sure you won't join us, Grace? I'd love to hear about the merits of a loving and committed relationship within the context of a police Unit…and somehow I don't think I'll get that from Boyd."

The profiler took a small, serene step towards the younger woman. "Sarah, take a moment and think about what you're doing to yourself. What on earth could you possibly stand to gain from carrying on like this?"

"It's about right and wrong."

"It's got fuck all to do with right and wrong," Boyd barked angrily, striding back towards the door and using his height advantage to stare down at the younger DSI.

Sarah looked up at him fearlessly. "You're going to tell me it's to do with a clear separation between work and home, a line between personal and professional. You well and truly crossed that line when you started shagging Gr…."

"Get in the office, Sarah." Boyd's voice was low, dangerous.

"What are you going to do, Boyd? I've got every right to…."

"Now!" he growled ferociously, the exponential increase in volume blistering through the bullpen and resonating from the walls, his hand moving to grip her upper arm and forcibly progressing her movement into his lair before releasing her to slam the door violently in their wake.

Sarah crossed her arms as he began to pace in front of his desk, his agitation abundantly clear, and she allowed the silent tension to elongate for several moments before speaking again. "I don't appreciate being manhandled," she opened tersely.

"And I don't appreciate being disobeyed. I shouldn't have to ask you more than once to come to my office."

"I'm not your bloody subordinate. In case you'd forgotten, Boyd, we hold the same rank."

"I'm the head of this Unit. My authority isn't up for discussion."

She narrowed her pale eyes. "I don't know what you're so pissed off about. You know damn well that Maureen Smith threw me out with a flea in my ear."

"Right. So your belligerence is even less understandable, given the circumstances."

"You've won, Boyd; isn't that enough for you?"

He sighed heavily and stopped pacing to look at her, aghast. "This isn't about winning and losing, Sarah."

"I see." Realisation flickered across her expression. "It's about humiliation. Reasserting your assumed authority. Behaving like the fucking alpha male you think you are."

Boyd threw up his hands in exasperation. "You are unbelievable!"

"Tell me I'm wrong, then. Tell me this isn't all about power for you."

"Of course it isn't!"

"It is, Boyd. Power over me, power over this team. You're a control freak who can't stand it when someone steps out of line, when they dare to express doubt about your ability to do your job."

"The problem, Sarah, is that your doubt is _completely_ unjustified! You're so fucking fixated on my private life that you're missing the bigger picture!"

"Which is what?"

"That I could run this Unit successfully with one hand tied behind my back!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "That's what you think at the moment. But how long until you come up against a situation that compromises you? Or compromises Grace? Then what happens?"

He exhaled a dismissive breath. "I'm not going round this loop again with you."

"So you've dragged me in here for what, then? An apology?"

Boyd grinned mercilessly, leaning slowly back against the edge of his desk and watching the tension in her body coil tighter with every passing second. "Yes."

She made a small sound of incredulous derision and shook her head. "You've got to be fucking kidding."

"I'm absolutely serious."

"There is no way in _hell_ I'm apologising, Boyd. I haven't done anything wrong."

His gaze darkened. "Then you're delusional."

"What would it achieve, anyway? It's not going to change what I think about you. About Grace."

"This has got nothing to do with Grace."

"It's got everything to do with…."

"This is about you and me, Sarah. About you recognising that you made a serious error of judgement. About you realising that to be a member of this team is to…."

"Is to be subservient to you? Is to blindly follow your orders and damn the consequences?"

He shook his head in disbelief. "Is that really what you think?"

"You literally forced me in here, Boyd, in full view of the rest of the team. If that's not a demonstration of your oversized ego I don't know what is."

"This isn't a bloody dictatorship…."

"You could have fooled me."

Boyd blew out his breath. "Let me tell you the way things actually are, Sarah."

"From your own warped perspective, you mean?"

He ignored her, his tone gruff. "In this team we give our hearts and lungs to our work. We dedicate ourselves wholly to the pursuit of justice and we do it by working as a fluid unit, drawing on the strengths of each individual and relying on each other to do our utmost to get it right…."

"Corporate bullshit, Boyd," Sarah exhaled dismissively. "I expected more than that from you."

He continued doggedly, despite the palpable increase in his blood pressure. "We certainly do _not_ do it by prying into each other's personal lives and using insinuation to call into question the ability of our colleagues to do their jobs competently. I shouldn't have to tell you how unacceptable that kind of behaviour is."

"The difference is I'm not just doing it out of some sort of twisted desire to 'out' you."

He gave a humourless snort. "You're telling me your agenda is entirely altruistic, then?"

"I know you don't believe it…."

"You're damn right I don't."

"…but all I'm concerned with is the long-term effects."

"Even if Maureen Smith apparently isn't?"

"Maureen Smith isn't the one who'll be directly affected when the inevitable happens."

Boyd raised his chin triumphantly. "So this _is_ all about you and your career?"

"I don't want to be part of a team that's compromised. I've made no secret of that."

"Well, it's lucky for you that you're not, then."

"That's a matter of opinion."

"Not according to the DCC."

"Don't think you're off the hook with her, Boyd…."

He grinned maniacally. "Oh, I don't. She hates my fucking guts, which just goes to show how strongly she feels about all this crap."

Sarah crossed her arms in defiance. "My concerns are legitimate. Whatever you and she might think to the contrary."

"And you don't think your behaviour warrants challenging? For God's sake, Sarah; you've as good as accused me of abandoning my professional responsibilities for…."

"I'm saying it's a consideration I can't ignore. I _can't_, Boyd."

He regarded her silently for several seconds, a sense of dread twisting uncomfortably in his gut as he noted the recalcitrant flush to her cheeks, the glitter of determination hardening unerringly in her eyes. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" he said eventually, his voice low, resonant through the bones of his chest.

"How can I?" she replied in exasperation. "My views on how a team should function are fundamental to me, Boyd. And unlike the rest of your minions I refuse to be complicit in your inappropriate conduct by closing my eyes and ears to it."

"Where does that leave us, then? If you won't even _consider_ apologising…."

"Which I won't. I already said that."

"…and you won't take on board what a senior member of the brass has told you..." He broke off and released a frustrated breath. "If the circumstances were different I wouldn't hesitate in having you immediately removed from this Unit. I hope you realise that."

The blonde DSI grinned mirthlessly. "But as it is, you're stuck with me."

"For now."

"Maureen Smith assigned me to you herself. She obviously thinks I have something to offer here."

"Don't think that makes you expendable. I can make your time here an absolute fucking nightmare."

"You don't intimidate me, Boyd."

He took a threatening step towards her. "Is that right?"

Sarah deliberately matched his stance, unconsciously drawing herself up to her maximum height as she reached him. "You may be able to shout or shag the other members of this Unit into submission…"

"For Christ's sake, Sarah…."

"You're heading for disaster, Boyd. And the worst thing is you can't even see it. You're willing to risk the careers of every member of this team for your own pathetic ends…and they're too far beneath your spell to even be aware of it."

"Are you even_ aware_ of how successful this Unit is? Or is your head so far up your own arse that you don't…."

"Maybe historically. But I still maintain it's on course for meltdown unless…."

"Unless I change, is that it?"

"Something has to, Boyd. I'm completely serious about that."

He looked at her intently for a long moment before exhaling forcefully. "Looks like we're at stalemate, then…because I have absolutely no intention of changing one _iota_ to feed your paranoid, twisted bullshit."

"I'm anything but paranoid. You've never actually denied that you and Grace are…."

"Let's make one thing very clear, Sarah. However screwed up the reasons, you are in _my_ Unit now and as such I expect you to respect the chain of command and to get on with the tasks I assign you without stirring up a hornet's nest every time I open my mouth."

"I would have no problem with that if I wasn't acutely aware of…."

"Whatever you know or think you know is completely irrelevant." He levelled her a menacing glare. "Now can I rely on you to get on with your job or can't I?"

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "My professionalism isn't the one in question here."

"You just keep telling yourself that. Answer the damn question, Sarah."

She sighed, frustration arcing through her chest as she became increasingly aware of his upper hand position in their exchange. "Of course I'll do my bloody job," she breathed irritably. "What the hell do you take me for?"

"And do it within the constructs of this team without venting your spleen about personal agendas every time it enters your head?"

"Don't push me, Boyd…."

"Because if you don't I'll come down on you so hard you won't know what hit you." He gestured dismissively as she drew a breath to respond. "And that's not a threat before you start accusing me of Christ knows what. It's just a calmly delivered statement of fact."

Sarah gave a snort of derision and rolled her eyes. "Grace rubbing off on you, is she?"

"Oh, change the bloody record and piss off, will you?"

The younger DSI barely flinched beneath the abrasive bark, a rebellious smirk playing across her features as she turned on her heel and approached his office door, twisting to address him a final time as she neared the threshold.

"Don't think this is over, Boyd. I won't hesitate to go back to the DCC if I even _suspect_ you're in any way compromising this team…and next time I won't settle for being fobbed off quite so easily."

He laughed darkly, the ominous sound rumbling from his throat. "You do your worst, Sarah. You do your fucking worst."

He watched two spots of colour flare angrily on her cheeks, the contrast to her pale skin striking as she whipped her head back around and fled tempestuously from the room, his palm connecting sharply with the door and slamming it viciously in her wake, the glass pane rattling in resonance with the force of the impact. Within moments he had deflated inside the suddenly deafening silence, leaning back against his desk and releasing his breath slowly, his fingers moving to caress the taut skin of his forehead. He smiled grimly as his desk phone began to trill, the predictability of the timing comforting him slightly and he reached across to lift the receiver.

"Yes, Grace?" he answered wearily, his free hand moving to knead the knotted muscles at the back of his neck, his eyes drifting closed.

"You've managed to chase her out again," the profiler replied neutrally. "She snapped something to Spence and then stormed away."

"Yeah, well….Good bloody riddance."

Grace sighed. "You've got to get a handle on this, Boyd. We're going to have huge problems working with her down the line if…."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"You shouldn't have dragged her in there so forcefully."

"Oh, what do you want me to do, Grace? Run after her and apologise?"

"I want you to take the higher ground."

"I was _trying_! I was bloody trying!" He blew out his breath, annoyance rippling through his veins despite his concerted efforts to suppress it. "Can we talk about this later?"

"When you're calmer?"

"I need to go out for a while. Clear my head."

"Alright. I'm not going anywhere."

"Grace…."

"On any count."

"Good."

He hung up then, her quiet reassurance warming his chest despite the residual rage churning in his gut and he reached for his coat, ignoring the concerned stares of the remaining members of his team as he strode towards the door of the bullpen and stepped through.

* * *

><p>Grace looked up from her paperwork as the door to the bullpen swung gently closed and she watched as Boyd's hunched form stepped across the threshold and towards his office. He had been gone for several hours, the figurative shadows beginning to lengthen across the room and worry beginning to seep unbidden into her bones until he had now finally reappeared, and she had to forcibly stop herself from instantly calling out to him. Deliberately slowly she counted a minute beneath her breath before carefully replacing her pen top and rising from her desk.<p>

"You were a long time," she opened softly, leaning her weight against his door frame and appraising him as he sighed heavily and stretched back in his seated position to stare at the ceiling. "Everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Everything's bloody perfect."

She stifled a sigh at his tone and moved to take a seat beside him on the couch, resisting a powerful urge to touch him. "I take it you didn't find her."

"I wasn't really looking."

"Yes, you were."

"Oh, Christ, Grace," he groaned, his eyes flickering sideways towards her. "If the next word out of your mouth is 'subconsciously', I'm changing the bloody locks."

She patted his thigh briefly. "Credit me with a little sense, Boyd."

"Not on something like this."

She paused, the silence between them magnifying before she spoke again. "You feeling better?"

"Not really." He exhaled gloomily and ran a dejected hand across his eyes before angling his head to look at her. "I don't know where we go from here, Grace. I really don't know how we're going to work with her."

"It's not going to be easy," she conceded gently. "But it's what I was saying before…about taking the upper hand."

He raised an eyebrow at her unspoken sentiment. "And not letting her get under my skin?"

"Yes."

"It's impossible," he dismissed curtly. "She can't expect me to cut her any slack after the way she's behaved."

"I'm not necessarily talking about cutting her any slack. Just about staying professional in your handling of her and not giving her any more ammunition," Grace sighed, a soft exhalation of air into the stillness of the room. "We're on very thin ice, Boyd…."

"Oh, bollocks to that," he replied disdainfully. "The DCC as good as told her to stop wasting her time."

"Yes, but all that means is that Sarah will be looking for any reason to go running back to her. You can't give her cause."

He blinked, a gradual frown deepening across his forehead as he raised his head fully from the back of the sofa to look at her intently. "What are you saying, Grace?"

"I'm saying…," she intoned slowly, averting her gaze beneath the intensity of his. "That we must be absolutely faultless in our conduct…."

"I don't want to be walking on eggshells around you…."

"We can't give her any further cause to suspect that our relationship is somehow counterproductive to our…."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. I don't want to be worrying what's going through her twisted brain every time I legitimately call you into my office."

"That's not quite what I meant, Boyd."

"Well, say what you mean, then. Come _on_…."

She sighed at the characteristic exasperation in his tone. "I mean…that you can't risk her accusing you of being coerced or of your judgement being affected by my presence on this team."

He glared at her darkly. "That's not any clearer, Grace."

"Okay…." She broke off briefly and looked at him, at once trying to quell the wave of anxiety rolling across her stomach. "If a situation arises…at some point in the future…where to advance a particular case you need to ignore my expertise…."

"It wouldn't be an issue. It's not like I haven't done it before…."

"…or circumvent my personal safety…."

"Forget it."

"…then what I'm saying is," she continued forcefully, his continued interruptions beginning to grate against her nerves. "You shouldn't hesitate."

He shook his head incredulously. "Don't be absurd, Grace."

Grace leant forwards intently. "Listen to me, Peter. Sarah is absolutely obsessed by the concept of you compromising this team because of your relationship with me…and she'll be looking for any hint of you hesitating over a decision on a case because of what she presumes is your personal agenda."

"I'm not doing anything to put you at risk. I don't give a shit what she does."

"I'm not talking about someone having a knife to my throat…but if something came up where me stepping into the figurative firing line could help to move a case forwards…." She broke off and shrugged, an attempt to lighten the atmosphere despite the sense of foreboding settling inexplicably across her chest. "I don't know, Boyd. It might be enough to convince her that we can function together at work without any threat of damage to the Unit."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'd only even _start_ to consider it if there was no other choice…and even then the circumstances would have to be pretty bloody extenuating."

"It's just a consideration. One I want you to keep in the back of your head should you need it."

"Alright," he sighed reluctantly and allowed his head to fall back once more. "Christ, what a fucking mess."

"Hm." She paused briefly and raised a sardonic eyebrow. "What's that old adage about not mixing business with pleasure?"

He grunted and gave her a sideways glance. "That sounds suspiciously like regret, Grace."

"Not at all. Just…that perhaps we should have seen this coming."

"Don't start with all that retrospective crap. It's not like Eve or Spence would ever have made an issue out of it, even if they knew anything for certain."

"No, I know."

"Sarah's just got a malicious agenda…and seemingly she doesn't give a shit who knows it."

"Which is all the more reason why we shouldn't give her any further cause to…."

"Stop it, Grace. I don't want to hash over this again."

"Okay," she conceded gently, holding up a mollifying palm, her eyes flickering across his depressive form. "What's your grand plan for the rest of the evening, then?"

"I don't know about 'grand'…but it vaguely involves sitting in the dark and losing myself in a bottle of whiskey."

Grace rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Sounds romantic."

"Alright, then." He grinned wolfishly. "How does stress-relieving sex in my hallway sound?"

She pulled a face, her features creasing in consternation though her sapphire eyes were sparkling. "Does it have to be the hallway?"

"No," he replied easily. "You name the locale, Grace, and we'll go and get in the car right now."

She instantly caught the mischief edging into his tone. "Not the car, Boyd. Don't even think about it."

"Did I say I was?" His smile broadened crookedly. "Although now that you come to mention it…."

"Can we not just be dull and stick to your warm, comfortable bed?"

His expression softened as he reached for her hand, grazing his lips tenderly against the velvet smoothness of her pulse point. "Whatever works for you," he murmured throatily, smiling into the warmth of her skin at her breathy sigh.

She pulled away from him regretfully mere moments later and rose to her feet, reaching out her hand to him, her palm coming to rest gently against his chest as he moved to step towards her. "This business with Sarah…," she began anew, grimacing slightly as he groaned predictably in reaction.

"I thought we were done talking about…."

"It _will_ be okay. You do know that, don't you?"

He grunted scornfully. "I hope your crystal ball came with a receipt, Grace."

"What I mean is…I trust you to make the right decisions and not to compound the situation further. Okay?"

He sighed. "Is this you gently applying the pressure in that manner you've got so expert in over the years?"

She smiled mildly. "Yes."

"Oh, God. I've got no chance then, have I?"

"None whatsoever."

He laughed loudly, deeply, the sense of dark foreshadowing that had settled about his consciousness beginning to gradually dissipate as he touched her gently on the back to encourage her passage through the door. With a supreme effort he forced all further rage-ridden thoughts of Sarah Cavendish to the most remote caverns of his mind and allowed himself instead to concentrate on his companion, on the intoxicating promise of her slender curves beneath her clothes, on the often unspoken yet intense devotion emanating through the space between them. _I won't let Sarah ruin this_, he thought with determination as he reached into his pocket for his car keys, guiltily aware that the notion was equally as applicable to his work as to his personal life. _I can't. Because if she does my life's as good as over…._Forcing away the siren lull of melancholia he stepped again towards his car and towards the only person he had ever known who could pull him unerringly away from the precipice.

FIN


End file.
